Elle
IVY’S LIVING ROOM IS beautiful and cozy. It’s a mix of comfortable, casual furniture, and upscale designer pieces, all in cream and denim shades. I’m curled up in a chair so cushy I plan to ask her where she got it so I can buy one for myself.
To be honest, I came to the support group meeting just because she invited me and I like her so much. But listening to the handful of women here is proving to be an emotional experience.
“I’ve been with Ted since high school.” A woman named Tracy is clutching a shredded tissue between her fingers as she speaks. “I know him better than anyone. I love him. He’s such a good father to the girls. And I’d never want him to know . . .” She swallows hard against the emotion in her tone. “I don’t want him to be alone with the girls. It’s not because of him, but because of me. Because of what my stepfather did. The worry just eats at me, you know?”
Ivy sits forward in her chair, nodding with understanding. “I do know. I went through the same thing with Noah. It’s really hard.”
“But he’s their father.” Tracy wipes tears from beneath her eyes. “And he loves those girls so much. And I trust him, I really do. What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Ivy says. “Surviving abuse like that affects us forever.”
“It’s so irrational, though.” Tracy shakes her head.
I didn’t plan to say anything, but something makes me speak up.
“I worry about irrational things, too.”
“You do?” Tracy looks over at me.
“Yes. And I wonder if maybe . . . what you’re feeling isn’t really about your husband at all. It’s about you and seeing the little girl you once were when you look at your daughters.”
Tracy looks down at the ground and cries hard, her shoulders shaking. I look at Ivy, worried I said something wrong, but she gives me a small smile.
“Thank you for saying that,” Tracy says. “I never thought of it like that.”
“Maybe you can try talking to Ted about this,” Ivy suggests. “He knows what happened to you. A good partner wants to share your burdens.”
Tracy nods. “I probably should.”
“Bring the girls over to Grieves House this weekend so you and Ted can have some time alone. The Grieves girls love to babysit.”
Tracy looks drained and relieved at the same time. I can see how this group would have that effect. Another woman here told us she’s having nightmares about the physical abuse she endured from her ex-husband, and the terror in her voice was so real.
It made me see that other people are living with pain from their pasts, too. And as much as we’d all like to bury that pain and never think of it again, we can’t. We have to carve out a space in our lives for the pain to have a voice and acknowledge that it’s part of us.
I’ll never be the same woman I was before that day. But that doesn’t mean I can’t still be a happy, fulfilled woman who lives a life she loves.
Ivy serves snacks after the meeting, and everyone moves on to talking about lighter things as we eat tiny cucumber sandwiches and sip iced tea. It sounds like several of the women here are going to the same barn dance Justin and I are planning to attend Friday night.
“What does one wear to a barn dance?” I ask.
“Just dress casual,” a woman named Lisa says. “Jeans or shorts and cowboy boots.”
I arch my brows in surprise, mentally ditching my plan to wear strappy heels. “Cowboy boots?”
“I’ll loan you some,” Ivy says.
She finds a cute pair of brown boots for me once everyone else is gone, and I clutch them in my lap the whole ride back to the guesthouse, still thinking about the women I met at Ivy’s.
I did almost no talking during the meeting, but a lot of listening. And for the first time in a while, I felt like I was the one helping someone else instead of the other way around. Being a friend to the survivors I met doesn’t just make me feel less alone, it makes me feel stronger.
As soon as the driver parks the SUV, I open my door and hop out, running into the guesthouse. Andre is grumbling behind me about how I was supposed to wait for him, but I just couldn’t.
I open drawers and cabinets until I find a small pad of paper and a pen, and then I sit down at the table and let the words flow out of me. They don’t make much sense at first—they’re just phrases and thoughts I have in my head from the meeting. But after about thirty minutes, I’m able to start a song.
It’s about walking in the rain, but the rain is a metaphor for pain and abuse. And when I finish that one, I move on to another one. I stay at the table all afternoon and Justin finds me there, still at work, when he comes in to pick me up for our dance class at Miss Dee Dee’s.
“You look . . . intent,” he says, arching his brows as he walks over to kiss me.
“I am.”
“You making a grocery list?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, I’ve been writing songs all afternoon.”
His eyes light with happiness, crinkling at the corners when he smiles. “That’s great, Elle. Do you want to skip Miss Dee Dee’s and keep at it?”
“No, I want to go. I’ll still have the wheels turning in my mind.”
“I’m just gonna change real quick, and then we can go.”
“How was work?” I ask him.
“Fantastic. I’m representing a farmer in a lot line dispute over the fence he built.”
I tilt my head in question. “Is that sarcasm?”
“No, actually, it’s not.” He unbuttons his white dress shirt as he’s talking. “This is the kind of work I knew I’d be doing here. It’s a hell of a lot more interesting than case law research.”
He takes the dress shirt off and then strips his white T-shirt over his head. I admire the lines of muscle on his chest and the dark hair I like to run my fingers over while we’re in bed. I find his hairy chest much sexier than a waxed one.
Once he’s changed into a worn Washington University T-shirt, athletic shorts, and tennis shoes, we leave for the studio. Justin drives his car, and a security team follows us.
“This feels like such a normal date,” I say, grinning.
“It is.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers. “We’ll have to celebrate you writing music again when we’re done.”
“Yeah? What’d you have in mind?”
He considers. “We could have a drink at one of the hole-in-the-wall bars or get ice cream at the Dairy Dipper. That’s about it for celebrating in Lovely.”
“The Dairy Dipper sounds good.”
“It’s very good. They’re generous with the sprinkles.”
I feel happier than I have in a long time. I’m not sure if it’s life in Lovely or being with Justin that suits me so well. Maybe it’s both.
THE FRIDAY NIGHT BARN dance at a farm outside of town is a much bigger event than I was expecting. The huge, open barn the dance is being held in is decorated with strings of clear lights, and there are tables loaded with food and drinks. Everyone knows everyone here, and even though there are probably a hundred people, it feels like a family gathering.
My security team is keeping a distance, and people are staring at Justin and me, but not mobbing us. He keeps hold of my hand, his grip tightening a little when my gaze lands on Mallory. She’s openly glaring at me, and I look up at Justin.
“Just ignore her,” he says.
“Done.” I tug his hand in the direction of the dance floor. “You ready to dance, cowboy?”
His wide, perfect grin makes my heart somersault. Justin looks damn good in jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat. He nearly jumped me when he walked in from work and saw my short, frayed jean shorts, thin flannel tied at the waist, and the boots Ivy loaned me.
“I think you’re a country girl at heart,” he says as he pulls me close to dance.
“Or maybe I’m just in love with a country boy.”
He leans down and takes me by surprise when he slides his hands aro
und my ass and picks me up. I squeal a little as I wrap my legs around his waist.
“I’m in love with you, too, Elle.” His gaze is tender and intense. “So in love that I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”
When he tries to kiss me, the brims of our hats bump, and we both laugh. I take his hat off and hold it, my arms around his neck as he kisses me like no one is watching.
There’s a crowd around us, though, and soon they’re hooting, clapping, and taking pictures with camera phones. That’s one photo I’d love to see go viral.
We dance almost all night long. Even when I tell Justin we can go hang out with his brothers and their wives for a while, we dance. I know it’s because he knows I love it so much.
When we leave the dance late that night, I still feel like I’m floating. I never had anything like this with Colin, or any other man, for that matter. I don’t miss having the attention of the world on me, because Justin’s attention is all I need.
When we get back to the guesthouse, Justin tells the night security team we’re not to be disturbed until tomorrow afternoon unless there’s an emergency. And when he locks the door behind us, he doesn’t even turn on the lights. We kick off our boots and toss our cowboy hats on the couch.
Moonlight from the skylights illuminates us as he unties my flannel shirt and undoes the buttons, sliding it from my shoulders to the floor. Just his gaze on my body sends a shiver down my spine. His eyes stay on mine as he unfastens my jean shorts and slides them down next.
As I step out of the shorts, he sees the jagged scar on my stomach for the first time. He’s caught glimpses of it when my shirt rides up in bed, but this is the first time he’s seen it like this. I look down, suddenly self-conscious, and he takes my hand and puts it over the hard bulge in his jeans.
“This is how you make me feel,” he says in a low tone. “You’re perfect to me. Sexy and beautiful and absolutely perfect.”
I stroke my hand over his length, and he groans. Then I’m the one unfastening his jeans, and he pulls his T-shirt off.
His words echo in my mind as I fall to the bed, and he climbs on top of me, kissing my stomach, my thighs, my neck . . . every last inch of me. I’m beautiful. Sexy. Perfect.
With his hot breath on my skin and his erection pressed against my thigh, it’s impossible to feel anything else. We strip away the last of our clothes, and he slides a condom on. It’s been a while for me, so he goes slowly. If the security guys are close by outside, they’re getting an earful of our moans and groans. But I’m way too into this to be quiet.
What starts out slow and tender grows heated and passionate, and I can’t help coming quickly. Justin flips me over then, and I swear I could come again just from how good it feels when he slides into me from behind.
“Damn, you feel amazing,” he says, his voice a hot rasp in my ear. “So fucking good, baby.”
I push my hips back against him, my fingers wrapped around the bedsheet as he gives it to me like no man ever has. His size makes every stroke feel so good I’m on the edge again soon.
He leans down and cups my jaw in his huge hand, turning my face so he can kiss me. His voice is strained as he says, “I love you, Elle,” and the fingers of his other hand slide to the exact spot I need to come again. I bury my face in a pillow as I scream.
I feel him shuddering hard behind me as he comes with a groan. As soon as he slides out of me, I collapse to the bed, breathless as he lays down on his back and pulls me against his side.
“That was fucking amazing,” he says.
“Or amazing fucking.”
We laugh, snuggle, make love, and fuck hard for the next several hours. I feel closer to him than I even knew it was possible to feel to another person. When we leave bed for a drink of water, I grab my notebook from the table, scrawling notes for another song with the early morning sunlight coming through the skylights.
I want to share my euphoria with the world, and this song is my way of doing it.
Justin
I’VE WOKEN UP WITH Elle in my arms before, but this is the first time I’m waking up with her in my arms with both of us naked. It’s a damn good way to start the day—to the feel of her soft, warm skin against mine and the faint smell of hay from the barn in her hair.
My body seems to have forgotten about getting off three times before I finally fell asleep. My stiff cock rests against Elle’s ass, ready for action. She hums with amusement as she wiggles her ass.
After a little foreplay, I tear open a condom and put it on. Elle surprises me by pushing on my chest and then climbing on top of me.
I swear every fucking cell in my body is turned on as she eases herself down onto my cock, moaning with satisfaction. Her hardened nipples are absolute perfection. She has one hand in her hair, and her other palm rests on my chest.
Taking hold of her hips to support her, I can’t help pulling them down to drive a little more of my cock into her. I groan hard, the tight clenching of her pussy around my dick making my balls ache.
I love her. She’s fierce and strong and beautiful, and I’d take on anyone who tried to hurt her. But I also feel a burning lust for her. I crave the taste and smell and feel of her. The way her pink lips part when she moans and the small patch of red curls between her thighs. Those things are all mine, and it’s a high like nothing I’ve ever felt.
Elle still has the taut, lean frame of a dancer, and she rides me hard and fast, sending my self-control into a tailspin. I have to close my eyes so the image of her open mouth and bouncing tits doesn’t make me come as fast as a horny teenager.
“Justin . . .”
She moans my name and grips my forearms, her nails sinking into my skin. My balls tighten as I strain to hold on.
“Come on, baby, give it up,” I say, and within a couple seconds, she does.
I’m right behind her, sitting up to wrap my arms around her as I come. We lay in silence for a minute, the soothing feel of her fingertips brushing over my chest making me want to go back to sleep.
“I could stay in this bed forever,” she says, wrapping her leg around mine.
“Me too. But we’re due at a cookout with my family this afternoon.”
Elle lifts her head and looks at the windows that face my parents’ house. The curtains and blinds are closed, but she still has a line of worry between her brows.
“The cookout isn’t here, is it?”
“Yeah, it is.”
Her cheeks turn bright pink, and it’s sexy as hell. “There’s no one in the yard right now, is there? Please tell me there’s no way your family just heard us.”
“You were pretty loud.” I kiss her forehead, getting a kick out of her embarrassment.
“Justin, why didn’t you tell me? Now I want to die. I can’t go eat hot dogs with them like everything’s fine.”
“My brothers are totally gonna wink at you if they see you eating a hot dog.”
She groans and buries her face in my chest. “This is horrible.”
“Why are you whispering?” I whisper.
“Because . . . oh, I don’t know, I guess it’s too late now, isn’t it?”
I smooth a hand over her hair and kiss the top of her head. “Don’t sweat it. Haven’t you noticed all the kids running around this place when my family’s all here? We approve of sex.”
“Yeah, but . . . that doesn’t mean your family wants to hear it.”
“It’ll be a great icebreaker to have the birds and the bees talk with my nieces and nephews. Maybe you can handle that over lunch.”
She pinches my nipple and slides out of bed. “You’re mean. I’m taking a shower.”
“Ouch.” I reach out and smack her ass. “You want me to bend you over this bed and make you scream even louder?”
“Please don’t.” She smiles at me over her shoulder.
I watch the graceful lines of her body as she walks to the bathroom. She’s so damn beautiful it takes my breath away. I love that she’s shared her whole self wi
th me, imperfections and all. I want to be a man worthy of both Emily and Elle.
Life’s funny. I planned on coming home to be a carefree bachelor for a few more years, but instead, I have a daughter and a woman I’m deeply in love with. And I’ve never been happier.
Elle wears a sleeveless green dress to the cookout, her hair up in a ponytail that makes her look so young and pretty that I can’t take my eyes off her the entire afternoon.
“You guys are gonna end up married, aren’t you?” Reed says to me.
We’re sitting on a bench drinking beer by ourselves, and his question makes me shrug and say, “I’ll be lucky if we do.”
“I’ve never seen you look at a woman the way you’re looking at her.”
“I’m in love with her. I didn’t realize before her that I’ve probably never been in love until now. But we don’t want to rush things now that Emily’s in the picture. I need to get to know Emily one on one, you know? And I don’t know what Elle plans to do with her career now.”
Reed nods. “Yeah, I was wondering about that. Lovely’s not exactly Hollywood.”
“I would’ve moved with her if she wanted to go back to work, but with Emily . . . I can’t do that now.”
“You should talk to her about this.”
“I don’t want to rush things.”
Reed elbows me, and I turn to look at him.
“You don’t want to rush things, or you’re afraid to find out she doesn’t want to be in Lovely long term?”
I shrug and focus on Elle again. She’s talking and laughing with Meredith like they’re old friends.
“We’re happy right now,” I tell Reed. “I’m not gonna stress about the future.”
He scoffs. “Baby brother, from the look on your face, I can tell you’ll be crushed if she leaves. Better to know now than later.”
“Quit stealing my joy, asshole.” I scowl at him.
“Stealing your joy, huh?” He laughs. “I’m just looking out for you, man.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it covered.”
Ivy walks over to us with baby Lucas, who’s been fussing despite her best efforts to calm him down. She’s fed him, rocked him, and carried him around the yard.
Hidden Depth (Lockhart Brothers Book 4) Page 13
