Carried Away: A Small Town Romance (The Moore Brothers Book 2) (6 page)

BOOK: Carried Away: A Small Town Romance (The Moore Brothers Book 2)
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Logic demanded she resist, but there was nothing logical about the way her lower muscles clenched, nothing logical about the dampness pooling between her legs. There was nothing logical in the need she felt for him, in the way she moaned into his mouth when he curled his fingers into her hair and pulled back, exposing her neck and kissing and licking his way down her throat. Logic didn’t live in her heaving chest or her closed eyes. Her head falling back to offer more skin for him to taste. Logic didn’t live in the thrill she got from his hand clamped around her wrist and the bulge in his pants that pressed against her belly. Oh no, there was nothing logical about any of it.

James pulled away but kept his head bowed and his hand in her hair. There was a long moment where he kept her pressed to him, this long moment where Ellie couldn’t breathe or think, where she was surrounded by James, his scent, his taste, his arms and hands clutching her tight to him. And then he took one shuddering breath and loosened his grip without fully releasing her.

“I’ll see you Sunday at two,” he said and pressed his forehead to hers for just the shortest, most perfect second before he released her and slipped out the door before she had time to say another word.

8

J
ames pulled
his helmet over his head as he stomped down the sidewalk towards his Ducati. His heart thundered and his thoughts whirled in huge ass lightening strikes of anger and confusion. He slung his leg over his bike and turned the key in the ignition, rolled back on the throttle and tried to drown the surge of anxiety out with the sound of the engine.

No good. None of this was good. What the fuck was he thinking, kissing Ellie like that? Pretending to be in love was one thing. Holding her hand and smiling at her in public, throwing his charm into high gear for everyone to see, kissing her like he meant it when people were pretending not to watch, all of that was fine. But pulling her towards him? Kissing her behind closed doors? Feeling
need
rise up from somewhere deep in his belly and plant itself in his dick? That was not fucking okay.

He had been fooled once into listening to those kinds of feelings. Fooled into daydreaming about a house filled with kids and a wife who loved him more and more every day for the rest of his life. He had
believed
in it. Wanted it. Trusted that it was right around the corner and then life came in and showed him just how impossible it all was. Love didn’t exist. Not the kind that lasted long enough for any of the things he wanted. It was all just flashes of lust and excitement that faded away into routine and boredom.

A quick twist of his wrist on the throttle and the bike shot forward, the speedometer racing past one hundred. He tilted and leaned through the curves, darted into the left lane to pass cars plodding along in the right lane, ignoring the blasts of horns as he scared the shit out of other drivers on the road. If he went fast enough, if he just went a little faster, he could outrace these thoughts. Leave any developing feelings for Ellie behind and just go back to numb James. The James who didn’t feel anything on the inside.

He flew past his house and drove straight to the gym. Changed into the spare set of clothes he kept in his locker and went straight to the weights. He pushed hard, putting up more weight than he ever had, focusing on his contracting muscles, the burn racing through his arms and chest. He breathed. He sweated. And finally, when his body shook with fatigue, he calmed down and hit the showers.

As water flowed over his body, he pressed his elbow to the wall and leaned his head against his forearm. His muscles quivered and ached and his lungs felt raw from pushing himself so hard. He couldn't let Ellie get to him like that. He couldn’t let himself lose control.

So, he’d kissed her? So, he’d liked it? That didn’t mean he was falling in love with her or anything like that. It just meant that he was a man and she was a woman and their chemistry was clicking right along. No harm there. Ellie was beautiful and—surprisingly enough—had a body he liked to get his hands on. She was funny and smart and not afraid to say just exactly what was on her mind. And he liked to be around her. So what?

James soaped up and rinsed off. Got dressed and trudged through the gym and stepped out into a glorious sunset. Palm trees lined the walk, the thick fronds swinging in a light breeze off the ocean. He was supposed to meet Ethan and Oliver at The Pit for some sparring and, given how shaky he was, that was just plain going to suck. It sure as hell beat the alternative though. He wasn’t drunk enough to spend another night alone in that big empty house. He stopped for a snack on his way out to The Pit and showed up a good ten minutes late.

“Thought you were gonna stand us up,” Ethan said as James met them coming out of the locker room as he came in.

“Nah, just got hung up at the gym.”

Oliver widened his eyes. “You hit the gym first? You’re just asking to get the snot beat out of you.”

Ethan snickered. “Don’t worry buddy.” He clasped James’s shoulder. I’ll take it easy on you tonight.”

“You're just saying that now so that you won’t look so bad when I take you to the mat later,” James said and cracked his neck before disappearing into the locker room.

H
is body burned
. His knuckles ached. His muscles complained when he moved and no matter how many times he shifted on his couch, he couldn’t get comfortable. He had put up a good fight, landing strike after strike on Ethan, popping right back up if Ethan took him down. James had won that match. But he’d had to dig too deep into his reserves to do it and by the time he took on Ollie, he had nothing left to give. Oliver had gotten a few powerful hits in past his guard and finally James went down and stayed down.

It was good though. Even though he had lost, he had learned a lot about how to dig in past exhaustion, how to make fast decisions when his brain was thick with fatigue. James chalked the day up as a win, regardless of the scorecard. Of course, that was only because this was practice. When he finally got ready to fight for real, he would have an entirely different attitude about losing.

James had every intention of keeping his promise to Ellie. He poured himself a big glass of water and occupied himself by digging through the trash in his living room, tossing stuff into bags and actually started feeling bad for the state of the place. Even felt a little embarrassed that Ellie had been inside his house twice now and seen it like this. It didn’t take long for the ache to swell in his heart and combine with the ache in his body to overpower his good intentions.

It wasn’t so much that he missed Erin. Not anymore. He missed the
idea
of Erin. The fantasy of what their life together could have been. The trash and missing furniture in his living room only reminded him how futile that fantasy had been. After spending an hour filling several trash bags, he finally poured himself a drink. And then another. And then another. And then he didn’t care about the trash anymore. The trash bags sat where he left them, propped up against each other near the door and James drug himself upstairs and fell into bed.

The weirdest thought swirled to the top of his consciousness as he teetered on the edge of sleep. He wanted to text Ellie goodnight and tell her how excited he was for Sunday. But that was a foolish thought and he batted it back down before he succumbed to darkness.

9

T
he next few
days were the longest days in the entirety of Ellie’s whole life, each day an eternity in and of itself. She couldn’t stop thinking about James. Half the time, she wanted to call the whole thing off because that kiss right before he left her apartment the other day meant trouble. The other half, she just couldn’t wait for more time with him. More chances to touch him. For him to touch her. And for more kisses that left her breathless for days.

She yawned and flicked through the shirts in her closet with one hand while taking a sip from her coffee with the other. She had set her alarm for extra early because she knew it would take forever for her to decide what to wear. She had even tried to pick something out last night. Had stood in front of her closet, sipping wine and holding up shirts and dresses to her body and coming to the conclusion that she just wasn’t going to be happy with anything she had.

It was all too old, or too small, or too baggy, or the wrong color, or, or, or…

Or maybe she was just too hard on herself and needed to settle down. The truth of the matter was that every time she held up a shirt, she heard Parasite Steve’s voice in her head.

You look like a bloated sausage in that shirt.

That color makes your skin look awful.

Your boobs are too big for that fabric.

She had finally drowned out his voice with an extra glass of wine, feeling like a hypocrite for using the same numbing tactic she’d told James not to use. It hadn't helped. She hadn't been able to choose an outfit last night.

She felt decidedly less fragile this morning, though.
You know what,
she thought.
Fuck Steve.
She pulled her favorite red shirt out of the closet, the one he always said made her look like a tramp but she thought looked good with her hair. After grabbing a cute pair of shorts, she folded them up and put them in a bag along with a some lipstick and an eyeliner. She knew better than to wear the outfit to work; she never survived a day without getting something all over her. And the make up? Well, if James wanted arm candy, then she’d give him arm candy. She was gonna look damn good when he picked her up.

She turned on some music and danced through getting dressed and then headed into work for the longest day ever. James had been right. No one showed. A few people trickled in for their morning coffees, but after that? Nada. She cleaned the tables. She stocked the counters. She did her best to avoid Ben, but he was just as bored as she was so that was no easy feat. Finally, she gave in and let him yammer away at her while she watched the hour hand drag its lazy ass around the clock.

At half past one, she’d had all she could take. “Hey, Ben?” she asked, interrupting whatever he had been droning on about for the last twenty minutes. “I need to get ready for a date. Would you man the counter for me?”

Ben clamped down on the first bit of personal information Ellie had given him in days and didn’t like the taste of it. “A date, huh?” He sniffed and looked away. “Where you going?”

He looked like he had just caught her cheating and it would have been comical if it hadn’t been so annoying. “Shrimp Fest,” she said, heading back to the office to grab her bag of clothes and makeup. “With James Moore.”

Ben whistled. “No wonder I never had a chance with you. You like ‘em tall, dark, and rich as hell.”

The disdain in his voice was almost more than Ellie could bare and if he wasn’t an employee, she would have told him just exactly all the other reasons he didn’t have a chance with her. But he
was
an employee, so Ellie disappeared into the restroom before her mouth had a different idea about what Ben needed to hear. She emerged just before two and found that Ben had already left. The place was devoid of customers, so at least he hadn’t left her in a lurch, but damn. Here she was worrying about treating an employee with proper respect only for that employee to turn around and walk out on the job.

What if a customer had come in? Oh hell! Just because no one was here now, didn't mean they hadn’t been here earlier and who knew when Ben and actually left. Ellie checked the cash in the register and sighed in relief when it looked untouched, then scurried back to the office to make sure everything was okay in there, too. Which it was. The kitchen though? That was another story. Ben had left a mess. A huge mess. Stacks of dishes tilted maddenly near the sinks and food needed put away and she was pretty damn certain she was going to need another weekend cook because Ben’s ass was fired.

Creepy bastard.

Ellie went to work, doing her best not to spill anything on her shirt, and was just coming out of the walk-in when she heard the front door open. “I’ll be right there,” she called out. She just needed to get a few more of these perishable items in the walk-in and the rest would just have to wait until later. She gathered several bins of condiments in her arms, each one stacked precariously on the next.

She turned just as James came around the corner and scared her half to death. She jumped, and then in an effort to keep from spilling a big pan of mayo down her chest, she stumbled. The pans in her hands clattered to the floor and Ellie lost all control of her body, lurching backwards to avoid stepping in the mess. There was a split second of
oh shit I’m gonna fall
followed by strong arms wrapped tightly around her and one powerful set of chest muscles squeezing against her shoulders.

“Whoa,” said James as he stood her back up. “I didn’t see that coming. Are you okay?” He released her but kept his hands on her shoulders, laughter crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Ellie looked down at her shirt and didn’t see one drop of anything anywhere. “Yeah,” she said, beaming and trying to ignore the fact that she was wishing he hadn’t let her go just yet. “I’m fine. Double fine since I didn’t spill anything on myself.”

James stepped back and gave her a serious once over, a smile playing on his lips as his eyes left burning trails of hotness in their wake. “It would have been a shame to ruin that shirt. You look amazing.”

Something akin to joy rushed through Ellie’s heart and rustled up a bunch of butterflies in her stomach. “Take that, Parasite Steve,” Ellie muttered.

“What?” James looked baffled.

Embarrassment took a lawnmower to the field of butterflies in her stomach, shredding the whole thing to pieces. “There I go again,” she said, barely able to see through the flames of humiliation on her cheeks. “Saying dumb shit out loud that nobody needs to hear.” She shrugged and hoped he’d move on.

He didn’t. “Did you call me a parasite?”

“No. I wasn’t talking about you.” Ellie flexed her hands and rubbed them together. “My ex. Steve. He said I looked like a hooker in this shirt.”

“Parasite Steve.” Humor lit James’s eyes and he chuckled. “I take it he didn’t rate much on the provider scale?”

“Nope. Not unless that scale had negative numbers.”

James paused and looked thoughtful before his eyes met hers again. “I brought you flowers.” He gestured towards a bouquet upended on the floor next to the spreading pool of mayonnaise and other condiments. “I sacrificed them to save you.”

“Well, thank you on both counts.” Ellie steepled her fingers and put them under her chin, contemplating what to do with the mess of a kitchen now that James was here.

“So, uh,” James said, looking around with wide eyes. “This place is a disaster. I don’t feel quite so bad about letting you inside my house now, if this is how you keep your shop.”

“It shouldn’t look like this, but it seems like I’m down a cook as of about…” Ellie looked at her wrist as if checking a watch. “...about a half an hour or so ago.”

James looked baffled and Ellie explained. “You mean this guy got all shitty and walked out because you had a date?” he asked when she was done.

“Yup. That about sums it up.”

“Were you two messing around?”

Ellie snorted. “With Ben? No. Not that he wasn’t interested. Apparently
very
interested. But no. I made sure to make it abundantly clear that I was nothing more than his boss.”

James made a face that said he wasn’t so sure her message got across and then scanned the kitchen. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that you’re going to want to clean some of this up before we leave?”

He didn’t look at all interested in waiting around while she scooped mayonnaise off the floor, and the truth of it was that she wasn’t at all interested in actually
having
to scoop mayonnaise off the floor, either. Like, not at all. She’d been waiting days to get her ass to the Shrimp Fest and apparently, felt like her responsibility quota had already been met for the day.

“Nope.” Ellie shrugged. “I’ll pay for it tonight when it stinks and I have to scrape it all off the floor, but I am
so
ready to get out of here.”

“Atta girl,” said James and offered her his elbow. “Let’s get going.”

“Just one thing before we go.” Ellie bent and picked up the flowers and smoothed out the petals and broken stems as best as she could. “They’re very pretty. Thank you. This was very thoughtful of you.”

“I didn’t know if you would have any customers or not. I thought it’d look extra good if I showed up with presents.”

Oh. That’s right. None of this is real.

Ellie brought the flowers up to her face to cover the reaction she couldn’t hide. She’d gotten all swept up in the compliments about her shirt, the heat in his gaze as it traveled over her body, his hands wrapped around her when she fell. She forgot it was all a farce. All for show. Nothing he said or did meant anything.

Except that kiss the other day meant something.

It meant something all right. It meant that James was a man and men lived and died by their penises. What was the statistic? They thought about sex every other second or something? That kiss that had dominated her every thought since it happened meant nothing to James and Ellie would be a fool to let herself think otherwise.

Using a water pitcher as a vase, Ellie put the flowers in water and set them on the counter near the cash register while James sat down at a table near the window at the front of the restaurant. He leaned back in the booth, his long legs clad in tight jeans stretched out in front of him. Sun streaked through the window and splattered on the table in a burst of light and shadow, fractured by the lettering on the glass. James looked outside, his chin lifted, his strong jaw set in a straight line.

What could he be thinking? Was he lost in the past? Contemplating his future? Or just bored as hell waiting on Ellie to hurry up?

She slid the makeshift vase across the counter and sighed. “There. All set.”

James turned to her and smiled. Stood up and grabbed his helmet off the seat beside him. “Good to go?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the helmet. “I guess I thought we’d go together.” Another surge of disappointment rose bitterly in her throat. This whole thing was a bad idea. She couldn’t seem to get it in her head that he wasn’t
actually
interested in her.

“Of course we’ll go together, silly.” James bent down to pick something else off the seat and Ellie got an eye full of low-riding jeans and tight torso before he straightened, holding a second helmet. “Ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle before?”

BOOK: Carried Away: A Small Town Romance (The Moore Brothers Book 2)
6.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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