“She’s not my girl.”
Ella wanted to turn and walk away so she wouldn’t have to hear anything else that would further lacerate her already wounded heart. She wanted to leave him there to deal with whatever was going on by himself. But she couldn’t seem to get the message from her brain to her feet, so she stood riveted in place while the giant tried to talk some sense into Gavin.
“Just go with her and make this easy on everyone, will you?”
“What business is it of yours what I do?”
“Making sure everyone who leaves here does so safely is my business. If you don’t want me in your business, get in her car and go. Then we won’t have anything further to talk about.”
“Fine. I’m going.” Gavin stalked over to where Ella stood, arms crossed, watching him swerve as he crossed the parking lot. She pulled out her keys and pushed a button on the key fob to unlock her white Honda CR-V.
Gavin got into the passenger side and slammed the door.
“Thanks so much for your help,” Ella said to the giant.
“No problem. He’s a decent guy who’s heading down a bad road. I hope he can figure out his shit before trouble finds him.”
“I hope so, too.”
“You have a good night now.”
Ella got into her car and nearly dropped her keys in the dark, which was when she realized her hands were shaking.
“You don’t have to do this,” Gavin said. “I can call a cab.”
“I don’t mind.”
Ella started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for Butler. Gavin never said a word as they got closer to the town line, where she took a left toward his house, rather than a right toward hers in town.
The closer they got to his home on the grounds of the logging company he owned, the harder it became for Ella to refrain from asking him how she ended up in his phone as his ICE. She kept telling herself she was better off not knowing. What good would it do? He’d sent her away twice before, so what would make this time any different? Just give him a ride and leave it at that.
Except . . . How was she supposed to drop him off, go back to her life and forget about the fact that out of all the people he knew, she was the one he wanted called in an emergency? Why her? Did this count as an emergency? Ella knew herself, and she’d never get a minute’s peace if she didn’t ask him why.
She pulled up to his log cabin on the far side of the logging property and turned off the car. Being here reminded her of the time she’d come a couple of months ago, after hearing he’d been arrested in a fight at another bar. He’d sent her away then, and he probably would again.
“Thanks for the ride. Sorry about all this.”
“It’s okay.”
He reached for the door handle. Was he really going to get out and that would be that?
She forced herself to speak before she missed the opportunity. “Gavin?”
“Yeah?
“Why am I in your phone as the one to call in an emergency?”
CHAPTER 2
Hope is being able to see that there is
light despite all of the darkness.
—Desmond Tutu
He stared at her, long enough to be unnerving, before he spoke. “Can you come in for a minute?”
“Oh, well . . .”
“I’m sorry. You were probably doing something and had to leave to come rescue me from myself.”
“I was actually on a date.” He didn’t need to know the date was with a sofa and two guys named Ben and Jerry.
“Oh God, El. I’m so sorry. I hope you’ve met someone really nice who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“Of course I do! You know I care about you, and I want you to be happy.”
“If that’s the case, then . . .” No, I won’t say it. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that no other man could ever make me happier than he does, even when he’s pushing me away. Again.
“Then what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“Come in. We need to talk.”
As her heart did a happy dance for the ages, Ella shook her head. “If you just want to tell me—again—all the reasons this will never happen, I’m good. I got the message the first half-dozen times you explained it to me.”
“That’s not why I want you to come in.”
Go, go, GO, her heart cried. For the love of God and all that’s holy, get out of the car and go into that cozy log cabin where the man of your dreams lives. Ella had always been one to follow her heart, but this time her heart was in deep conflict with the brain that was telling her to run, run, RUN before he could hurt her again.
“Please, Ella?”
Her brain didn’t stand a chance against her heart when he said please in that soft, urgent tone. She reached for the door handle.
They met at the front of her car, him still a little less than steady on his feet, and her certain she was making yet another in a string of huge mistakes where he was concerned. Then he put his hand on the small of her back to guide her up the stairs, and that was her undoing.
Why did he have to be so perfectly imperfect? Why did he have to be everything she’d ever wanted, wrapped up in one devilishly sexy, deeply wounded package? Her feelings for him ran the gamut from unbearable to undeniable to untenable and back again, an endless circle of frustration.
Her heart simply couldn’t take another self-inflicted wound—self-inflicted because she kept going back for more even though he’d repeatedly told her there was no hope for anything between them. She didn’t blame him. At least he’d always been straight with her. She blamed herself for being unwilling to take no for an answer.
So as she climbed the stairs to his front door, she attempted to manage her expectations. Nothing would happen. They would talk. She would stay until she was certain he was okay, and then she’d go home alone the way she always did, this time without a lacerating wound to nurse for the foreseeable future.
From behind her, he reached around to open the door, which wasn’t locked. The brush of his arm against her shoulder sent a tingle of awareness to parts of her that only seemed to stand up and take notice of this man. Only he had the power to activate all her systems with just the slightest contact of his body against hers. It made her wonder what it would be like—
No. Not going there. Under no circumstances are you going there. Well . . . No!
While she should be listening to her better judgment and distancing herself, instead she wanted to purr with the simple pleasure that came from being close to him for however long the moment lasted. She’d never claimed this situation was anything other than pathetic. At least she was remaining true to form in her “relationship,” such as it wasn’t, with Gavin.
She stepped into his home ahead of him. The door closed behind them with a resounding thud, and suddenly this felt like a bad idea. A very bad idea, indeed. The last time she’d been here, after hearing he’d been arrested for fighting in a bar, she’d left work to come check on him and had ended up crying all the way home after he sent her away.
“I, um . . . I should go.”
“I was going to make some coffee. Can I entice you to stay for that long?”
If she drank coffee at this hour, she’d be up all night, but she’d be up all night anyway, analyzing every second of this bizarre evening. “Sure. I guess.”
Gavin got busy making the coffee. The only sign of his slight intoxication was the mess he made pouring the water into the back of the coffeemaker. Aim, shoot, miss. Those three little words were like a metaphor for this entire situation, and the thought nearly made her laugh out loud. Except . . . There was nothing at all funny about unrequited love. It sucked every bit as badly as the songs, books and movies claimed it did.