Sure, he doesn’t want a fight in his bar, but he’s about to have one anyway.My eyes find Ellison’s, and she’s standing with her mouth hanging open, looking between the three of us.Her cheeks are flushed, and damn, she’s sexy.
“Ellison.”I breathe her name like a caress.
“I was handling it.”She latches her hands on to her hips and glares at me.
“Like hell you were,” I fire back, taking a step toward her.I don’t want her anger, but at the same time, I’ll take any ounce of her that she’s willing to give me.
“Fuck you, Copeland,” she seethes.
“That can be arranged, sweetheart.”Another step, and we’re so close, I can see the pulse in her neck.
“Bowen, it’s me or him,” I tell my friend without tearing my eyes away from Ellison.
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Bowen counters.
Technically, he’s right.But that’s because I stopped him before it could get too far.Fine.If Bowen’s not kicking him out, then I’ll take matters into my own hands.Bending, I lift Ellison over my shoulder and turn to stalk out of the bar.I hear our names being shouted, along with some hooting and hollering, and a few “It’s about time,” but I ignore it all.Instead, I focus on Ellison.After all these years, she’s finally in my arms where she belongs.
Sure, she’s kicking and screaming and pounding her fists on my back, but she’s with me.She’s safe, and to me, that’s all that matters.
With one hand on the back of her thighs, holding her tightly, I use the other to push open the door and step outside.Ellison stops screaming, but she continues to slap at my back.I don’t stop until I reach my truck, where I gently let her slide down my body to her feet.
She instantly smacks my chest.“What are you doing?You can’t just toss me over your damn shoulder and carry me out of the bar.I was dancing,” she says, punching at my chest again.
I barely feel it.
“You have no right,” she says, stomping her foot into the gravel parking lot.“You can’t just waltz back into my life and think you have control.It’s been seventeen years, Copeland.Seventeen years!”she screams.She smacks my chest again.This time, her touch is even lighter; she’s losing the fight.
I step closer, staring down at her, as her floral scent wraps around me.“He was touching you,” I say, surprised at the calm in my voice.I’ve never yelled at her.
“We were dancing!”she says, exasperated.
I take another step closer, our chests are now touching, and she sucks in a breath.Her hands move to my chest, but this time, instead of hitting me or trying to push me away, they remain there, close to my heart.
“Yes, you were dancing.Ells, I saw you.I saw you tense.I saw your movements slow.I watched as you tried to step away from him more than once.You didn’t want his touch.”I almost say,You wanted mine, hence your hands on my chest, but I keep that thought to myself.
“You don’t know me,” she says, with absolutely no heat in her tone.
“I know you, Ellison Moran.I know your body.I know he was making you uncomfortable.”She licks her lips, and I move in close.There’s barely a breath between us.All I would have to do is move a fraction of an inch, and my lips would be pressed against hers.
Fuck, I miss kissing her.
Instead, I rest my forehead against hers.“I know I hated every minute of watching another man touch you,” I confess, letting the words fall freely between us.
She fists my shirt.“You don’t get a say,” she whispers.
I move my hands to her hips.I want to pull her closer, but I don’t push my luck.“I know,” I whisper back.I don’t bother to hide the pain in my words.I need her to hear it.I need her to understand that even after all this time, I still miss her.
I still love her.
The door crashes open, and then we hear “Ellie, you out here?”It’s Kinzie.
Fuck.I know that means my time with her is over.I want to beg her to take a drive with me or sit in my truck and talk to me.Just five more minutes of us being this close, of hearing her voice, of feeling her hands gripping my shirt.
“Y-Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat.“Yeah!”she says again, this time louder.Then, softer, she says, “I should go.”
No.
Don’t go.
