Chapter 9
I eyed the man who walked next to me, his arm around my waist protectively in the dark night. The last time I saw him was Saturday and since this was Wednesday, it was a nice surprise. We’d texted a few times, but didn’t make any solid plans to go out again. I wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t want to, or he just didn’t have time.
“I want to,” he said, shoulder bumping me gently.
“Want to what?” I asked, uneasy laughter filling the air around us. Could he read minds now?
“Go out with you again,” he answered.
I almost tripped on my own feet. “Did I say that out loud?
He chuckled and shook his head. “Not at all, but you’re an easy read.”
I shoulder bumped him back. “Well, in that case, so do I. If I hadn’t been busy tonight, I probably would have asked you to get tacos.”
“Tacos? It’s Wednesday,” he teased.
“I know, but I love tacos any day of the week.”
He laughed and pointed straight ahead at a door. “I heard they have great tacos any night of the week.”
“Oh, yes! I love Fire Island Bar and Grill! Are you hungry? It’s late, but they serve late.”
He rubbed his flat belly. “I’m all in for tacos!”
He yanked the door open and ushered me in, the warmth of the bar bringing the feeling back to my cheeks. “Wow, it’s dead in here.” I stuffed my gloves in my coat pocket and followed him to a table in the shadows. “Like really dead.”
“I suppose Wednesday nights aren’t big nights with church, and of course, not being Taco Tuesday.”
I punched him lightly on the shoulder and grabbed a menu. “You’re a real comedian tonight. You must have had a good day.”
He nodded once. “It was good. The insurance told me they would cover the damage to the window, and I got the security system up and running. It makes me feel much better about the situation.”
I rubbed his shoulder encouragingly and smiled. “Good. I’m glad. You deserve lots of good luck. I heard from a little bird that you’re helping out others in the community. Karma should have your back.”
He raised a brow. “Oh, really now. Who told you I’m helping out others in the community?”
I huffed and looked at him under my eyebrows as answer.
“Of course, Audrey,” he laughed, his head shaking. “I don’t know what she said, but it’s probably not true.”
“No, it’s true,” I said immediately, “I got confirmation from Mr. Violet.”
He leaned forward onto the table and held my gaze. “Seriously, anyone would do it if they had the skills. He needs help rehabbing and yoga is a very peaceful meditative exercise. He gets exercise for his body and his mind.”
“Something he desperately needs living with Audrey,” I said deadpan.
He started to giggle, his shoulders shaking just as the server approached our table.
I pointed at my tablemate. “Don’t mind him. He just found out you can’t make a statement in this town without it somehow tying back to Audrey Violet.”
The waitress standing in front of me was Lila Treba. We went to high school together. Now she was working here in the evenings and going to school during the day for welding. She looked incredible in a pair of short shorts and a tight t-shirt and yet, she could wear overalls and a welding shield with the best of them.
“Lila, this is Ellis David. He’s new to town.”
She waved her hand at me. “Girl, I know Ellis. He’s in here once a week to eat, at least. Right, boyfriend?” she asked, her tone teasing.
Ellis held his hands out, palms up. “I told you I get tired of eating from a can.”
“I guess you weren’t kidding,” I muttered, laughing at myself. “I forget you’ve been here longer than I think.” I glanced between him and Lila and laughed. “That sounded weird, but you know what I mean. Time flies. Anyway, I’ll have two tacos so I stop talking.”
Lila chuckled and tapped her pad. “Same for you, darling?” she asked, snapping her gum. When Ellis nodded, she put her pad away, not bothering to write anything down. “And a beer or two or wine or?” she asked patiently.
“I’ll have hot chocolate,” he said immediately, his eyes not making contact with mine. “I have to work in the morning.”
“Hit me with a glass of white wine. I don’t.”
“Coming right up. Now you two remember this is a PG establishment. No funny business back here in the corner and keep your hands where I can see them.”
I almost choked and my cheeks flushed with the heat of embarrassment. Ellis leaned back against the chair and raised an eye at Lila. “You’re like my grandma, only less fun.”
Lila winked as she turned and sauntered back to the bar, her backend waving in the wind with each step.
“Guess you told her,” I snickered, happy he wasn’t afraid to push back a little bit. I like a guy who knows when to be beta, but also how to bring out the alpha when needed. Sure, Lila was just playing, but I liked that he could give as good as he got.
I shook my finger at him. “You told me the only place you’d eaten at in town was the diner. I think you’re telling tales.”
He grinned, sheepishly. “You’re right, but I guess I think of this as a bar and not so much a grill. I stand corrected, now I have experience with three establishments in Bells Pass. The diner is still my favorite.”
I winked teasingly at him. “Mine too.”
“Tell me about your night,” he said, pausing when Lila brought our drinks back to the table. He sipped his hot chocolate and waited for me to answer, so I gave him the so-so hands.
“We had fun and Mel found a dress, but I’m not sure if we convinced her to have the wedding at the gazebo or not.”
He stared at me with a blank expression on his face. “Confused.”
I set my wine glass down and smacked my lips. “Man, that’s good. Okay, so Ivy and Shep got married at the gazebo last year, right?” I asked and he nodded. “Right, so that’s also where Mel and Mason kind of officially started dating and where Mason proposed on Christmas Day.”
“And you want them to get married in the gazebo but they don’t want to?” he asked, his head tilted to the left in concentration.
I waved my hand. “Backstory. Mel has bad arthritis in her feet. If they get cold, she’s done for and limps around. Rather than irritate her feet with the cold, they decided to get married at the courthouse and then immediately following their vows, Mason was going to sign the paperwork to officially adopt Holly as his own.”
He did a half-frown half-smile thing I couldn’t decipher. “That’s so sweet. I met Holly on Saturday at the birthday party. She’s a sweetheart.”
I nodded happily until I remembered what Mel told me about her. “She is, but she’s having a hard time right now.”
He nodded, tapping his mug. “I noticed she was having trouble staying in the moment with her friends. She wanted to, but something was tugging at her.”
“Did she enjoy the yoga portion of it?”
“She was pretty into it. Much more than the other girls who were hard to keep on the mats. For Holly, it was like she finally found something to focus on that was different from whatever else was going on. Do you think it’s the wedding?” I leaned over the table and explained to him what happened to Holly when she was a baby. When I sat back up, he grimaced, hard. “That’s brutal. The poor little thing. No wonder she enjoyed yoga. It’s very calming when you do it right.”
“Do you have room in any of your classes? Maybe Saturdays?” I asked, an idea forming.
“Sure, and I can always make room if there’s a day she wants to come but the class is full. She needs to be there more than some of the kids who are just there to say they go to yoga.”
I grasped his hand on top of the table and squeezed it. “Let me talk to Mel. I’ll pay for a month of classes for her and then they can decide if they want her to keep going. If it helps get her over this hump then it’s well worth the money.”
He shook his head. “You’ll do no such thing. If they think yoga will help her, I’ll offer them a free month to try it out and then discount their rate if they want her to keep coming. It’s the least I can do to pay back the community for all the help they’ve given me. I know everyone would rather the service go to a child who is near and dear to their hearts.”
“You’re absolutely right there. Thank you, Ellis. I’ll talk to Mel about it and have her get in touch with you. I think it would do Holly a load of good to have something she can do at home when she needs to get out of her head.”
“I agree. I spend a lot of time doing yoga just to get out of my head. It’s great for that. Most people think yoga is about getting into their head, but they’re dead wrong.”
“I’ve never actually done yoga. I suppose I should try it, but I’m so awkward and fluffy I never quite know where to start.”
“Okay, first of all, you aren’t awkward and fluffy. Second of all, if you want to try it, I’ll give you some private lessons on your living room floor. I’m nice like that.”
I giggled, the sound carefree and happy. “I’d like that, and I’d definitely like to try it in my living room first. It’s less embarrassing that way.”
“I’m not worried in the least. I think you’ll be great at it. Now, back to the gazebo.”
I snapped my fingers. “Oh, right, okay,” I said, launching into the story again, only interrupted once by Lila with our tacos. Between bites, he pointed out that maybe we overstepped, which I didn’t disagree with. “You’re totally right and we knew it could backfire, but at the same time, we didn’t want her to give up on her dream just because she’s living with a disease that holds her back sometimes. If that makes sense.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “More than you know.”
Well, how’s that for a weird answer? I didn’t say anything though, just finished chewing my taco.
“I’ll let you know how it turns out, but I suspect if Mel has anything to say about it, the gazebo will be the backdrop for their nuptials.”
Once he wiped his mouth, he grinned. “And by then Santa’s sleigh will be there.”
“Santa’s what now?” I asked, confused and concerned for his mental health.
“Santa’s sleigh,” he said again. “They’re going to have Santa in the park every Saturday from now until Christmas. You haven’t heard about this? They asked all the businesses in town to donate candy canes or hot chocolate.”
I shook my head vigorously and then paused. “You know what, the chamber was trying to get ahold of me, but I never returned the call because clients kept coming in. Guess I better call them back!” I said excitedly. “The kids would eat that up! Santa and the tree in the background. Talk about awesome pictures.”
He nodded, a smile wide on his face while he sipped his cocoa. “Exactly what they were thinking. They’re going to have an elf there taking pictures and the proceeds from the sale of the pictures will go to buy new lights for the tree next year. They thought it was a more original setting for the traditional Santa picture than the mall.”
I clapped excitedly, the spirit of Christmas back in my heart. “I seriously can’t wait to see this! Where did they get the sleigh?”
He swallowed and shrugged. “Don’t know. Just know what they told me when they called.” He motioned to Lila for the check and I finished my taco, grabbed my purse and snatched the check from her before he could
“My treat this time,” I said, handing her the cash and the bill. “Keep the change. Thanks, Lila. Have a great night.” She thanked me then waved on her way back to the bar.
He had his eye on me and I laughed. “What? It was just tacos, relax,” I said, throwing my coat on and my purse over my shoulder.
He grabbed his own and stuck his arms in, pulling his stocking cap on his head and letting the smile return to his face. “Okay, but we’re even now,” he said, his brow pointing to his nose.
I held up my hands as we walked toward the door. “Dude, I’m a modern-day woman. I believe women can pick up the check once in a while in a dating situation and not insult a man’s masculinity.”
He had his hand to my back, but he paused, his hand grasping the back of my coat to stop my forward motion. “Dating situation?”
I spun on my heel slowly and grimaced. “I said that, didn’t I? How about friend situation? We can pick up the check alternately as friends without insulting each other or maybe, like, you know, we can just start going Dutch if that makes you feel better. That’s no problem, we’ll just tell them to split the check.”
He advanced on me until I was up against the rough brick of the bar and grill. He planted a hand on either side of my head and leaned in, his warm body plastered the length of me and his cold nose nearly touching mine. It was strangely erotic and overtly intimidating at the same time.
“Did I say I had a problem with the words dating situation?” he asked, his voice low and his breathing ragged.
“Um, no, but you did use those two words in a tone of voice that said you weren’t so sure about it,” I squeaked, mad that my voice wasn’t strong and take charge. It was hard to be strong and take charge when he was hanging over me with lust in his eyes.
He moved closer, his warm thigh now trapped between my knees, and his forehead just inches from mine, which meant his eyes bore into mine when he spoke. His words were measured when he did. “I wasn’t sure about the situation, not the words.”
My eyes stared at the brim of his hat just to break eye contact. “Yeah, thanks, that totally cleared it up for me.”
Before I blinked again, his lips were on mine in a fierce and frantic tangle of tongues and lips. He stroked mine languidly, his hands leaving the building to grasp my face and tip my head to go deeper. His soft moan echoed in my ears and I returned it, letting it reverberate through him. I could feel it in his chest and down his leg from my full-body shiver. He let his lips fall from mine slowly and then rested his forehead on mine, his breath ragged.
“Does that clear it up?” I nodded, barely. “Maybe we should take this to your place,” he hissed, his breath warm against my cool cheek.
“Maybe we should,” I agreed and he grabbed my arm and power walked me around the corner toward the salon.
Not a word was said on the walk, or should I say he walked and I ran on my tippy toes to keep up, to the salon. He was a man on a mission and who was I to pass up a heavy make-out session? I had my keys in hand as we approached the side door of the salon, ready to key us in and get up the stairs as fast as possible. Before I could get the key in the lock, he had them in his hands, the door unlocked, and me up against the banister of the stairs. His lips were back on mine in a hard kiss of possession that left no doubt in my mind that he didn’t have an issue with the words dating and situation being used together in reference to us.
I buried my hands in his hair, my gloves still on, and the leather slid through his white locks like butter. His lips moved to my neck and kissed a trail to my ear. “You’re incredible,” he whispered. He took my hand and stripped my gloves off, one finger at a time. “Beautiful,” he sighed and tucked the gloves between two banister posts then slowly unbuttoned my coat. “Absolutely, irrevocably stunning,” he finished when my coat was gone, and I stood in my red sequined tunic and leggings. His fingers hooked in the belt at my waist as his eyes swallowed me from top to bottom. “I think I’m in heaven.”
I trailed my finger down his jaw to rest on his chest. “No, you’re in the hallway of Addie and Me.”
“I like those two words together better than dating situation,” he whispered.
I lowered the zipper on his coat. “Addie and me?” I asked, my tongue thick in my mouth.
“Most definitely it’s Addie and me, right here, right now, except Addie and me are going to go upstairs and get far more comfortable than we are in this cold vestibule.”
“Mmmm,” I hummed, “Addie is okay with that idea.”
He followed me up the stairs to the apartment door and I let us in, both of us falling through the door and onto the couch. We were desperate to connect as we groped for each other in the darkened room. His lips pressed my head into the back of the couch and he practically straddled me, his hand planted at the nape of my neck while his tongue worked its way through my mouth with precision. I whimpered, his need my need and his passion my passion.
His jeans did nothing to hide his desires and my hand strayed there to caress him lightly. He moaned, his hips bucking and his teeth biting down on my lower lip as a warning. When I didn’t take heed, he grabbed my hand and ripped his lips from mine, both of us panting. I noticed his arm dart out to the left and then the lamp came on. His hair was mussed from my fingers and his eyes were hooded when he gazed at me.
He climbed off my lap and took three steps from me, running his fingers into his hair. “We have to stop,” he whispered. “As much as I don’t want to stop, we have to.”
“You don’t have a condom with you?”
He shook his head, his hand grasping the back of his neck.
“Not even an emergency one in your wallet? Don’t all guys carry emergency condoms?”
He laughed with frustration and shook his head. “Nada, babe.”
Babe? Moving on.
“I don’t sleep with women casually. My mother taught me to be a gentleman. She’d have a cow if she knew I was that close,” he said, motioning at the couch.
I walked to him and slid my hands up his chest. “Your mom sounds like a great lady, but it is kind of a buzzkill when you bring her up when discussing sex.”
He let his head fall back and he laughed, at himself. “You’re right. I’m just disappointed in myself for forgetting my manners.”
I tipped his chin down with my finger until he made eye contact. “You know, if two people are both participating in the activity, manners have nothing to do with it. There’s a time to be polite, for instance holding doors open for little old ladies. When it comes to intimacy, politeness can cripple you. In most cases, being too polite is frowned upon.”
He lowered a brow. “Frowned upon?”
I nodded, my hands playing with his hair. “As long as the two people involved are mutually into it then politeness has no place in the bedroom. Unless you’re talking about making sure the woman is as happily sated as you are by the end.”
He stared me down for a solid thirty seconds before he spoke. “I get that, but I still don’t have casual sex, which is why I don’t carry emergency condoms.”
My hand came up to push some hair off his forehead. “I’m not pressuring you, Ellis. It’s too soon and we’re probably lucky you didn’t have that emergency condom. We may have used it and there would be no going back.”
He nodded, his eyes melting before me in a big puddle of chocolate crème. “I agree, but I’m still going to the store tomorrow and buying a pack. Then, when the time is right, I’m prepared.”
I lowered my head to his chest on a laugh. “Thank God because I’m not so sure we’ll be able to stop ourselves the next time.” I rocked my head back and forth on his chest and my head ran over the hard spot again. I dropped my hand to his chest and glanced up at him. “Ellis, what is that? This isn’t the first time I’ve felt it.”
His eyes widened and he swallowed nervously as though he thought I might move on without an answer. I wouldn’t. I waited.
“Ellis, is there something wrong?” I asked patiently, noting his breathing had picked up and his upper lip was covered in a sheen of sweat.
He blew out a breath and dropped his eyes. “Full disclosure?” I nodded and he sighed. “I might as well show you. It’s not like I can hide it once I take my shirt off.”
I lifted my hands off his chest and my eyes held his until he yanked the shirt over his head. What I saw first made me smile, my breath knocked from me as I ran my hands over his muscled belly. “That’s one hell of a six-pack,” I said instantly. “Yoga has been extremely kind to you.” It was what I saw when my gaze traveled upward that had me sucking in a breath of understanding. I traced the scar that ran down his sternum and then back up it. He shivered, but he didn’t make eye contact. “What the hell, Ellis?” My eyes then searched out the spot that was hard and I noticed another scar over the bulge. My finger traced that scar too, but this time he held my hand to the spot.
“It’s an ICD.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means implantable cardioverter-defibrillator.”
“Like a pacemaker?” I asked, wanting to understand.
He was still holding my hand to his chest like a lifeline, so I didn’t pull away, just waited for him to answer. “Yes, it’s a pacemaker, but it will also shock my heart if it starts beating wrong.”
“You have a pacemaker at twenty-five?” I asked one more time just to be sure.
“I’ve had it since I was twenty.”
My finger traced the long scar down his centerline again. “Because of this?”
“Yep,” he answered. I waited, but he didn’t appear to be forthcoming with more answers.
I gave him a solid minute to answer and when he didn’t, I pressed the palm of my hand to the scar over his heart. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about this, Ellis.”
“I’m not,” he said defensively.
He wanted to pull away, but I held him in place. “I’m looking in your eyes and they’re telling me you’re lying right now.” I paused, my gaze holding his. “Maybe it’s not embarrassment. Maybe it’s shame.”
He blinked, twice and whatever was there disappeared. “It’s neither. It just is what it is.”
“What is it then, Ellis? You still haven’t said.”
He walked to the couch and sat, leaning over onto his thighs. “I have what’s called Romano-Ward syndrome. To sum it up, I have a problem with the electrical system of my heart. My heart will beat chaotically and then needs to be paced or shocked back into rhythm.”
I sat next to him and rubbed his back, which was bare, warm, and muscled. I definitely could get used to having him wrapped around me like a blanket. “Did you have open heart surgery, too? Is that what the long scar down your chest is from.”
He gave his head a slight shake. “No, that was from when they opened my chest to do internal defibrillation.”
My hand stilled on his back. “I’m so sorry, Ellis. How terrifying.”
He shrugged. “I honestly don’t remember a thing about it.” He swallowed long and hard as though he’d just told the biggest lie he had ever told and couldn’t quite get it down. I wasn’t going to say anything. He was clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter, so better to wait on pushing him about it further until he had settled into knowing I wasn’t going to turn my back on him.
I turned him to me and ran my hand over the pacemaker again. “Does it feel weird being in there?”
“Sometimes,” he agreed, holding my hand there again. “But I don’t pay it much attention after all of these years. I’ve got five years on the battery, so it’s going to have to be replaced sometime in the next three years.”
“How do they do that? Take the whole thing out?”
“No, they disconnect the leads that go into my heart and replace just the box. It’s a simple surgery. I’m praying this one lasts the next three years because they aren’t cheap.”
I frowned and held his gaze. “I suppose not. I’m sorry, that’s a lot to have happen at twenty.” My eyes were on his chest again. “Where did this bruise come from? It looks sore,” I said, pointing just below the pacemaker bulge.
He laughed and kissed my lips as though he couldn’t wait another moment. I returned the kiss, but he ended it too soon and I whimpered at the lost connection. “I was helping a mom get her toddler’s shoes on the other day after class. He doesn’t like shoes, so he lashed out and kicked me. It wasn’t a big deal seeing as he was only two, but the toe of the shoe left a mark. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Hazards of the job I guess, eh?” I asked, rubbing the spot with my finger. I noticed goosebumps on his skin, so I grabbed his shirt, handing it to him. “Better put that on before you get cold, or I jump your extremely muscular bones, one of the two.”
He grinned and pulled the shirt on. “We don’t want either of those things. Well, at least we don’t want the first one. The latter can happen after I head to the store tomorrow. I mean that is, if …” He motioned at his chest and then let his hand drop.
“If I still want to see you even though you have a pacemaker?”
His head barely twitched as an answer.
“Ellis,” I said gently, taking his hand. “I’m not shallow and I’m not afraid of being with you because you have a heart condition. I was raised by a nurse. I understand how the human body works. Any of us at any time could discover something about our body that changes our life. I’m not na?ve or judgmental about those things. None of us have perfect bodies. Take me for instance. I’m not exactly yoga showroom quality, am I?”
His eyes hooded and his head tipped to the right. “Excuse me? What does yoga showroom quality even mean?”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “It means I’m not buff like you are.”
“Yoga isn’t meant to make you buff, Addie. This,” he said, motioning at his body, “has taken five years of yoga and weights to achieve. I’m only built like this because I have to be. I have to have the musculature to keep my heart healthy. Yoga isn’t about working out your body as much as it’s about working out your mind. Young, old, heavy, thin, and every body in between does yoga. It’s not a contest.”
Clearly, I had aggravated him. I rested my hand on his chest. “Relax. I just meant I’m more soft than hard, I love tacos, and I have an allergy to working out. It shows.” I motioned at my body as a case in point.
His brow went up and he took a solid thirty-second perusal of said body. “Personally, I like my women the way I like my tacos, soft with a hint of spice.”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “Excellent use of comparison skills.”
“Thanks, but it’s the truth. When I look at you, I see a beautiful, voluptuous, vivacious woman who has a lot to offer a man.”
“That’s a lot of adjectives,” I whispered, “but I know I’m not the girl for every guy. Not to mention, I’m extremely dark compared to your everything white.”
His hand came up to cup my cheek and his thumb stroked my cheekbone. “I see a perfect mocha latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top,” he said, teasing my hair for a second. “I envy the fact that you don’t look like Santa Claus after a long winter.”
I tossed my head back and laughed, his words accurate when describing himself. “I have to admit, you’re the sexiest Santa I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t mind sitting on Santa’s lap.”
“And Santa wouldn’t mind having you sit on his lap so he can feel that soft, beautiful, damn amazing body against him again. So he can hold you in his arms again and kiss your pink lips while inhaling the alluring scent of you.”
I swallowed and wiped my brow. “Wow, is it hot in here?” I asked, but I wasn’t joking around. I was dead serious. The images running through my mind like a movie were downright steamy.
He leaned forward and pulled me over onto his lap. “I can make it hotter,” he promised and his lips lowered to mine before the place went up in smoke.