by Tara Wyatt
“It was not going well.” Ellie spun in her seat to face Victor. “Like, really, really not.”
“You were with me,” said Victor, his words dripping with malice and frustration. “I bought your drinks. You owe me.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything,” said Matt, stepping up to Victor, leaving only inches between them.
“Fucking bitch led me on.” He pointed angrily at Ellie, whose face had gone white.
“All right. Wrap it up. You’re done here.” Matt kept his voice calm and level, calling on his years of experience dealing with creeps just like Victor.
Victor shoved him in the chest, hard, but Matt had braced himself, half expecting it.
“You’re done!” The music had stopped, and people were swiveling their heads to watch the drama unfolding. Again, nothing Matt wasn’t used to. Cops tended to attract attention. Victor shoved Matt again, harder this time, and he stumbled back into the table, toppling over drinks and sending a wine glass rolling to the floor with a smash.
“Come on!” The veins in Victor’s neck and forehead stood out, frustrated rage coursing off of him in waves. He turned his red face toward Ellie. “He’s not even fucking fighting for you! Not that you’re worth it.” And then Victor took a swing.
Completely in control, Matt stepped out of the way and grabbed Victor’s arm, twisting it behind him and slamming his upper body down onto the table as if it were the hood of a cruiser. “Enough.”
“I can make your life miserable. Do you have any idea who my father is?” Victor practically shrieked, but his voice came out muffled as Matt pressed his hand into the back of Victor’s head, which was turned sideways, his face smushed into the table.
“No. Why? Your mom didn’t tell you?”
Victor’s face purpled, and Matt saw Ellie’s hand fly to her mouth as she stifled a laugh. He cocked his head at the quickly approaching security guards as Trevor apologized profusely to Ellie for setting her up with such a douchebag. For a split second, he worried they might kick both him and Victor out, but everything was sorted out quickly, with everyone at their table vouching for Matt and making it clear he’d only been acting in self-defense. It helped that he hadn’t actually hurt Victor. Not physically at least, but his pride had definitely taken a hit.
* * *
Holy crap. Calm, in control, and protective, Matt was unbelievably hot. As the security guards escorted Victor out, the music resumed and people picked up where they left off, as if some giant, cosmic “un-pause” button had been hit. Adjusting his suit jacket, Matt sat back down beside her as though nothing had happened.
He reached out and smoothed a strand of hair away from her eyes, heat trailing over her skin where he touched her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She blew out a breath, releasing the tension in her muscles. “I’m sorry about him.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He dropped his hand below the table and gave her knee a squeeze. Her knee, which was apparently an erogenous zone now, because a current of electricity was arcing between where he touched her and her core, and she knew she was wet. For him. Because of him.
So unsafe. Bad idea. Bad Ellie.
“I’ve never had a guy go all Conan the Barbarian for me like that before.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Why?”
He draped an arm over the back of her chair and leaned in closer. She could feel the eyes of everyone at their table on them, but she was too turned on to care.
“Are you fishing for a compliment?” The corner of his mouth turned up, humor flashing in his eyes.
She licked her lips and swallowed thickly. “I . . . no. Not fishing.” Awareness beat through her body, concentrated in her lips, her fingertips, and between her legs. God, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this turned on just from being around someone. “Besides. I left my pole at home.” She took a sip of her wine.
He winked. “Good thing I brought mine.”
She inhaled a lungful of wine, sputtering and coughing. She thumped herself on the chest, trying to breathe, rapidly blinking away the tears welling in her eyes.
This man was going to kill her. If she didn’t keel over from a heart attack brought on by the palpitations she kept experiencing, she’d choke on her drink. Death by chardonnay. Sounded like a cozy British mystery.
He squeezed her knee again and then rubbed his thumb in circles over her kneecap. Warm tingles erupted over her skin.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she managed to croak out.
A self-satisfied grin played across his lips. “The erection joke didn’t get my point across?” She felt herself blush, because now she was thinking of Matt’s erection, and it was rendering her completely stupid with lust.
He shook his head. “What kind of losers have you been dating?”
“You know, you’re the second person to ask me that today.”
“Bears thinking about then, doesn’t it?”
She stared at him, drinking him in, still not fully able to believe this was all real. Her phone buzzed in her clutch and she eased away from him, fishing it out.
Lauren: OMG. He is sex on a stick! Why aren’t you dancing with him?!?!
She locked eyes with Lauren, who wiggled her eyebrows suggestively from across the table, and Ellie stifled a giggle. Sex on a stick. Yep. That was Matt, all right. She glanced back at him, and he was watching her with open interest. He made her feel greedy, and she didn’t want to share him with anyone. Not Lauren, not Trevor. Not even his own family. She wanted him all to herself, like a box of chocolate she should share, but couldn’t. Even if eating the whole thing by herself would leave her with a stomachache. As Van Morrison’s “Crazy Love” began playing, she stood up. “Dance with me?”
A huge smile spread across his face, and he stood. “Of course.” He ushered her to the dance floor with his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd, before smoothly pulling her into his arms, holding her a bit tighter and a bit closer than when they’d danced before. This time, though, they didn’t speak. As they swayed to the music, their bodies aligned, they simply looked at each other, and she was sure that the lust, the happiness, the tiny shadow of incredulity she saw in Matt’s eyes was mirrored back to him in her own. She flexed her fingers into him, and he closed his eyes, just for a second.
It was one of those movie-perfect moments, and she didn’t want it to end.
The music changed to a much faster Jackson 5 tune, and she shrieked with laughter as he spun her out and then back into him, before starting to dance.
And she thought she’d felt like an inadequate dork before. Because now Matt was busting out some seriously good dance moves. Not over the top, Backstreet Boy-worthy moves, but good. Really good, and right then, she knew. She was going to sleep with him tonight. If he wanted her. And she was pretty sure he did, for some reason.
The party continued, and Ellie could’ve sworn that the festive, hopeful, buoyant atmosphere only grew and expanded as the night went on. As she danced with Matt, flirting and laughing and falling—oh, God, could that even be possible?—a sparkling sense of hope and anticipation spiraled through her, filling her heart so full that it took up all of the available space in her chest.
Hopefully, this was a sign that the year of Ellie was off to a roaring start.
* * *
Between songs, Matt slipped an arm around Ellie’s waist and pulled her to him, pressing a kiss to her temple and breathing in her soft warmth. Savoring and memorizing. Before it was too late. He knew the clock was ticking, and time was running out. He’d lost track of how many songs they’d danced to. The night was flying by way too fast, and midnight was rushing at him like a freight train.
A slow song came on and Ellie slid into his arms as if she belonged there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to do.
She deserved to know, especially if she was feeling eve
n a fraction of what he was. She pressed into him and nuzzled her face into his neck. His heart slammed into his stomach.
“I want to show you something.” He spoke the words against her ear.
She pulled back and smiled up at him, her eyes almost the same sparkling color as champagne. “Oh yeah? What?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.” He didn’t want to tell her with all of these people around.
Or maybe he just wanted her all to himself.
“Ooh, I love surprises!”
Somehow, he doubted she’d love his. He took her hand in his and led her through the crowd, Ellie trailing behind him as they cut a swath through the dancing partygoers. She traced her thumb in circles over his palm, and even though the contact was innocent enough, he felt a tug low in his stomach and his cock stirred in his pants. Jesus, he wanted her. He had absolutely no right to want her, and chances were she’d want nothing to do with him after he told her about Seattle, but still. He wanted her with an intensity he hadn’t felt in a long time. Years. Maybe ever.
Fuck.
They stepped out into the hall, the rush of party noise fading away, and he led her to a stairwell. She stopped for a second, shooting him a wicked grin as she slipped a champagne bottle from an open box against the wall. He glanced around before pushing the door to the stairwell open and ushering her in.
“Where are we going?” Her voice echoed against the concrete of the stark, bland stairwell. He spun to face her, letting go of her hand and suddenly feeling at loose ends for the lack of contact. She clutched the champagne bottle in one hand, the other planted firmly on her hip. Her lusciously curved hip. God, she was so sexy, and she had no idea. No idea how achingly lovely she was. No idea how much she turned him on. No idea how alive and scared and awake she made him feel.
“The roof.”
“The roof?” Her eyebrows shot up over her glasses.
“Yeah. The view’s incredible.”
“You know this how?”
“There was a robbery here when the place was still under construction. A bunch of building supplies got jacked, and the Laramie County Sheriff helped with the investigation because the thieves were wanted in Cheyenne for similar thefts.”
She smiled playfully, her lips quirking. “And you expect me to climb exactly how many flights of stairs in these heels? My feet are already sore from all that dancing.”
Right. Her shoes. He hadn’t even thought of that.
He shook his head. “I would never. I’ll give you a lift.” He turned his back to her, crouching down slightly. “Hop on.”
“You’re going to piggy back me up the stairs?”
“That’s the idea.”
“What if you drop me?”
“I promise I won’t drop you.” He glanced back over his shoulder at her.
Biting her lip, she stepped toward him. “Okay. If you promise.” Tentatively, she put her weight against him before hopping on his back, her legs wrapping around his waist. She felt so good against him, causing heated visions of exploring every inch of her body to explode in his mind, his cock once again perking up in his pants. Her breasts pressed against his back, and he almost groaned. He took a breath and then started up the stairs, Ellie’s hair falling forward and tickling his neck.
Matt pushed open the door to the roof, his heart hammering in his chest, partly from the exertion, and partly from having Ellie draped over him. A blast of cold air swirled around them, and he set her gently down on the threshold. Shrugging out of his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders, his hands lingering on the lapels. It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to pull her into him and kiss her until neither of them could breathe, but he’d promised himself. The truth before midnight, and no kissing before the truth.
Several inches of snow covered the small, flat surface of the roof onto which they’d emerged. Most of the resort’s roof was steep and angled, but there were a few spots where a flat surface was necessary to accommodate the HVAC system, and this was one of them. The ski hills glimmered before them, and Matt lifted her back onto his back so that she wouldn’t have to walk through the snow in her heels.
“This is beautiful,” she breathed. Snow clouds filled the sky, obscuring the stars, but giving the expanse of black a soft, velvety feel. Matt eased the champagne bottle from her hand and laid it carefully in the snow, the white flakes stark against the bright orange label. She sighed happily and kissed the back of his neck, causing all of the hairs there to stand at attention, much like another part of him.
Just when the moment couldn’t have felt any more pristine, it started to snow, light, fluffy flakes drifting lazily down around them. He felt Ellie tip her head back, and she laughed, her arms secure around his shoulders, as the falling snowflakes danced like a kaleidoscope around them. The happiness filling his chest warred with the heavy weight of dread sitting in his stomach. The pure perfection of the moment pressed uncomfortably against the knowledge that he was moving a thousand miles away. In three days.
Matt’s chest tightened. What was happening? Because it sure as hell felt like he was falling for a woman he’d only known for a few hours. It defied logic, but he couldn’t deny that there was something about Ellie that felt . . . well, perfect. In a way no woman had ever felt before. He wasn’t ready to face midnight and what it would mean for them.
He eased her to the ground and picked up the champagne bottle, dusting the snow off of it. Levity. He needed levity. Holding it up in one hand, he shot her a teasing smile. “This is stolen property. You’re a bad girl, Ellie.”
She bit her lip, smiling coyly. “Oh yeah, I’m trouble.” She laughed, rolling her eyes. Taking the bottle from him, she peeled back the foil and started wiggling the cork free.
“Maybe I’ll have to frisk you.”
She squeaked and her hand tightened around the cork, jerking it free and sending foaming champagne spurting suggestively over her hands. “Oops.”
“Better you than me,” said Matt, loving the way she blushed all the way from her neck to the tips of her ears.
She took a healthy swig from the bottle before passing it to him, and he did the same, watching as she shook the champagne off of her hands. For several minutes, they passed the champagne back and forth, and he lost himself in the scenery and the company. All too soon the moment was shattered as the sound of hundreds of voices shouting in unison pierced the night air.
“20 . . . 19 . . .”
No! It couldn’t be midnight already. A surge of panic rushed through him, his limbs tingling like he’d been struck by lightning. Matt turned to Ellie, his heart pressing up into his throat. “I have to tell you something.”
She cocked her head and pulled his jacket tight around her. “Okay.” A hint of apprehension flashed in her eyes, and guilt ate at him. He should’ve told her sooner. He was an asshole to have let things go this far.
He took a deep breath.
“10 . . . 9 . . .”
“I’m moving. To Seattle. In three days.”
Her mouth gaped open, her eyes wide and shining with disappointment he knew he’d put there. A single snowflake landed on her cheek and melted instantly.
“3 . . . 2 . . .”
It was over.
Chapter 5
“3 . . . 2 . . .”
The past few hours with Matt had been the most perfect hours of Ellie’s entire life. And now . . . what? He was leaving? Moving several states away? A band of pain clamped around her heart like a vice. How could it be that only minutes ago they’d been laughing, and drinking stolen champagne as impossibly light, fluffy snowflakes fell around them? That reality and this one didn’t fit together.
Matt’s eyes locked on hers, their blue depths solemn.
“Happy New Year!”
As fireworks exploded and shimmered over the ski hill, she did the only thing that felt right. Closing the small distance that separated them, she cupped Matt’s face in her hands and kissed him. Matt responded immediately, returni
ng her kiss and fisting a hand in her hair, as though he were scared she’d change her mind and pull away. He wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her tight against him, deepening the kiss. As his tongue slid against hers, every cell in her body threatened to explode with lust. She moved her lips against his and a thrill shot through her. His mouth, his kiss, was everything she’d hoped it would be: hot and delicious and perfect. She’d been aching to know what his mouth would feel like all night, and it was easily a million times better than she’d imagined.
He caught her bottom lip between his, sucking gently before caressing her tongue with his again. A current of need raced from her mouth to where she suddenly felt empty, throbbing and aching for him. Holy hell, could he kiss. His lips felt incredible against hers, warm and gentle and soft. And he tasted so good, like champagne and mint. She could kiss him forever, and it would never be enough. Pleasure raced through her, raising goose bumps on her skin that had nothing to do with the cold.
She broke the kiss, and he pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing heavy. The heat shining in his blue eyes was unmistakable.
“I needed to know.” Her voice shook, and she was surprised she could speak around the jumble of emotions churning through her.
“Know what?”
“If this is real.”
“That sure as hell felt real to me.” There was a roughness to his voice, and the idea that she’d done that to him thrilled her.
“Me too.”
“Shit.” Matt’s quiet curse hung between them, and he sighed and moved away, tension and sadness and lust all warring across his gorgeous face.
For Ellie, it didn’t matter that they had no future, that they only had tonight. She was already his, and tonight she would happily follow him into whatever beautiful unknown he wanted to share with her. As if she had any other choice.
“I want . . .” She stumbled over the words as fear threatened to choke her. This was exactly the kind of situation she’d promised herself she would avoid. But looking at him, she couldn’t stop herself from speaking. “I want to be with you.” Because, dammit, she did. The idea of walking away from him right now and not spending every single second they had reveling in this connection was inconceivable. Unfathomable.
