Take Me Home: Book 4 The Wakefield Romance Series

by Hewitt, Theresa Marguerite

  Holly almost snatches the cocoa out of my hand and takes a deep breath, the happy little grin on her face telling me that she was having a craving for it. It makes me giggle and I look to Holly’s mother, seeing her shake her head along with Jesse as he pushes the bowl of soup toward his wife; his arm thrown over the back of the booth and around her shoulders.

  “We’re fine. Thanks, Ellie.” Holly grins, her eyes telling me that she really is happy and I tuck the tray under my arm, heading back for the bar when a shrill whistle fills the bar. I know who it belongs to, but I’m not stopping or turning to see what my brother wants. He can get another waitress.

  I fill the next couple of hours with helping Brad and his waitresses serve the people, ignoring Bobby’s table every chance I get, and sitting and eating with my cousin and friends. I’m laughing away with Rhea and Rosa at some of their stories about their kids when a pair of work roughened hands slip around my waist, pulling me to my feet and spinning me to face those familiar green eyes, lined by the scar.

  “Hey girlie, wanna dance?” Garth’s smile and wink are just as irresistible as his boyfriend, Brad’s, and I nod as he grabs my hand leading me out onto the dance floor dotted with other patrons. The last few verses of Luke Bryan’s ‘Country Girl’ are pumping through the speakers and Garth spins me fast a few times, crossing my arms over my chest and leading me into a full spin around his stationary spot, making me laugh as the love of dancing fills me immediately. If I had to have one guy ask me to dance I’d always want it to be Garth, because he’s an awesome partner.

  Luke Bryan fades and Garth pulls me into him, taking my hand and settling for a classic two-step in the silence. More than a few hollers and yips fill the air and I know a good song is coming. Sure enough, the first few beats of Jason Aldean’s ‘My Kinda Party’ fills the air and Garth picks up his pace, leading us around the dance floor as the other couples join in. He pushes me out, spins me and pulls me back in, never losing a step as we make our circle; the lights playing off the darkened walls.

  “Comin’ in hot, Mr. Walters!” he shouts to the older couple dancing at a slower pace and they step in closer to the center of our circle, to avoid a collision, and I smile at Mrs. Walters. I don’t miss it as she pinches Garth in the butt when we pass and neither does her husband, but he just smiles and shakes his head, tipping his hat as Garth and I both laugh.

  “Ready, Ellie?” Garth smirks at me and I know he’s planning to put on a show when the beat picks up again with the chorus. I just scoff at him. Really? He’s asking if I’m ready! The chorus kicks on and sure enough, Garth pulls my hands above my head and guides me into a fast spin, stopping it and pulling me in with our arms out to our sides, then out and sliding our arms over our shoulders, grabbing my right hand and spinning me again, this time back into his arms so my back is at his chest.

  I can just see the onlookers lining the floor as the other couples spin and two-step, but Garth isn’t satisfied with their cheering and clapping, oh no. He likes the attention and he pulls me in for a few lifts, tossing me from one hip to the other, then having me wrap my legs around his waist as he lets go of my torso so I dip. He pulls me up and I unwrap my legs to a perfect dismount and another long spin as we rotate along the floor.

  He’s laughing with me as we settle for a fast two-step, trying to catch our breath and doing lazy spins. Other couples dancing around us say how they liked the show, the guys slapping Garth on the back and the girls asking for the next dance.

  “You’re gettin’ good, cowboy,” I joke, hitting him in the shoulder when he pulls me in from a slow spin and his green eyes light up. As I look at him, his expression changes to slight confusion right before hands grab my waist, pulling me from his arms and spinning me around.

  Looking up…up…into familiar hazel eyes, I see the aggravated look on his face. He doesn’t waste a second before he bends over, throwing me over his shoulder and lifting me from my feet. I’m shocked at first, but I start to kick and yell when I see he’s headed for the door.

  “Bobby Timmons! Put. Me. Down!” I’m kicking my feet, but he has his arm over the back of my knees, making my fight futile. I try to grab for someone to help me, but they all act like there is nothing happening, even Jude and Chelsi just sit at the bar, shrugging their shoulders when I yell for them.

  “Stop fussin’,” he yells over the now booming noise of the bar, weaving us through the people that are not helping me. I hit him in the back a few times but stop when a hard spank meets my ass, making it sting, and a loud squeal leaves my lips. I’m not going to lie, the chuckle that flows from Bobby does make my heart skip, but I don’t like this.

  “Yeah, stop yellin’ an’ screamin’, lil’ sister.” That familiar chuckle fills the space around me and I brace myself against Bobby’s back, looking up to see my brother and Austin French smiling at me. Damn them. I flip them off, but they just laugh some more. “Don’t keep her out too late, now, ya hear?” Jack looks from me with a raised eyebrow, but the smirk kills the seriousness and I look over my shoulder to see Bobby nod, his hand patting my ass again and I struggle, trying to kick him but failing and falling back against his back.

  “Oh don’t worry, Ellie girl,” Austin’s smooth voice comes over me, catching my attention and I look up into his blue eyes. “I’ll keep your pretty blonde friend company. No need to worry ‘bout her.” He waggles his eyebrows and motions over his shoulder to Chelsi. I just shake my head again and let it fall as Bobby carries me toward the door, stopping only to pull our jackets from the deer antlers on the wall.

  The chill of the night air and the crunch of his boots in the gravel breaks the silence between us and when I hear the creak of his truck door, I’m pulled from his shoulder and gently set on my feet. He’s only illuminated a little by the outside and street lights, but his eyes still burn a path to my heart, squeezing and pulling, making me want to break down already.

  “What do you think your doin’?” I ask angrily as he holds my jacket out to me. I snatch it from his hand, pulling it on to stay off the chilly air. He gives me that wicked grin and I almost return it, then remember that he just pulled me from a packed bar Tarzan style.

  “We’re goin’ to talk. I’m done with the shit,” he says plainly, motioning for me to get in. I refuse and stand my ground, shaking my head when he nods again for me to slide into the truck. His hand firmly, but gently, wraps around my upper arm and I step up on the rail, getting into the Chevy but not without a huff.

  My anxiety builds and my heart is racing, but I’m trying to hide it. I have to hold it together as much as I can.

  ~~~~

  Bobby

  Ever since she walked in the door and totally ignored me I couldn’t keep from watching her. Keeping my eyes on her while trying to act like I’m in on the conversations with the guys—yeah, wasn’t easy. Hearing her laugh through the other noise made my chest hurt and my legs shake, and French yelled at me more than once, even kicked me in my prosthetic, telling me to stop.

  Yeah, they all knew I would be on edge in her presence, Elliot and Jack having dealt with my non-stop working out and silence for the last three days and nights. I tried to give her the space I thought she wanted, but seeing her out there dancing, knowing it should’ve been me as her partner, I just couldn’t take it anymore.

  So that brings us to now, thundering through the parking lot and down the street. She’s sitting there with her arms crossed over her chest, an angry look on her pretty face, but I need to talk to her. I can’t put it off any longer.

  “Where are we goin’?” she grinds out, and I see the peek she gives me from the corner of my eye. She huffs more and shifts, throwing her elbow onto the arm rest on the door and facing the window, her warm breath fogging the cold window.

  “To the car wash,” I reply, not hiding the smile that breaks out as she snorts out an unbelieving laugh. I see the look she’s giving me in the corner of my eye, but when I turn to look at her real fast she turns away and it hur
ts more than a little. Is she that mad that she can’t look at me?

  “Why the hell are we goin’ to the car wash?” She giggles incredulously, shifting and leaning more on the door than before, throwing one of her boots up against the glove box knowing that I hate when she does it. Bare feet is one thing, but leaving dirty show prints on the dash of my truck is not cool. I don’t miss the small smile that flashes across those perfect lips when I lean over and grab the tip of her boot, picking her foot up and off, letting it fall to the floorboard. “I’m not helpin’ ya wash this hunk of junk, if that’s what ya want!”

  At a stop sign, I turn and face her finally, catching her off guard and she doesn’t turn away. Her eyebrow rises even more and she crosses her arms over her chest again, giving me that sass that I love too much. I just shake my head at her, getting her to ask me what I’m smiling at, but I just keep my eyes on the road until we’re in the only car wash in town. The lights are super bright, but I pull it into one of the stalls, throwing it in park and shutting it off; the radio being the only noise for a few long moments.

  “Well, what are ya waitin’ for? Ya gonna get out and wash this rust bucket or jus’ sit there?” she says angrily, but I just chuckle to myself, making her even more annoyed. She sighs heavily and her leg is bouncing up and down rapidly, telling me she’s nervous as all hell.

  “I’m not washin’ the truck, Ellie Mae,” I finally get out, my hands still gripping the steering wheel and squeezing it tight as I fight the urge to just grab her and shake her, telling her to snap out of it. I sink back against the bench seat and throw my hands behind my head, taking a deep breath. “I wanna talk…I mean, really talk.”

  The moments that stretch on between us after I say that are excruciating. The radio is low, but I hear her ragged breathing over it. It sounds like she’s fighting with herself. This pain in my chest is growing by the second and I finally hear her sniffle, then sigh; her hand coming up and wiping at her cheek.

  “Sweetheart,” I whisper, reaching out to her. But she just puts her hand up. I can see the tears streaming down her cheeks, that are now red, and the mascara running right along with it streaking her pale skin. “Please, Sweetheart…stop cryin’.”

  “Bobby…” she sobs and I know her voice is trying to fight the squeezing on her throat, the same that’s around my heart as she faces me. God damn it, I didn’t want to make her cry, that’s the last thing I wanted so I reach out to her again, hoping she’ll take my hand. She looks at it, resting on the seat before her then looks back up to me, sniffling some more. “Bobby….I’m…I’m sorry.”

  When she reaches out hesitantly, wrapping her fingers around mine, I’m done for. The warmth that seems to flow through me from her touch sears me to the core, and I have to take a deep breath to reel in my heartbeat. Looking at our fingers, I nod my head, letting everything that has passed between us out in the open for the last time.

  ~~~~

  Ellie

  I can’t hold it together anymore, especially when he calls me Sweetheart. Damn it! Damn that look he has on his face and damn these tears running down my cheeks. Looking to his fingers joined with mine, I let the feeling sink in. I’ve missed it. I just wish I could be a little stronger.

  “Sweetheart…I’m sorry, too,” he says on a breath, tugging on my hand causing me to look up at him. I can see the hurt written all over his face, the deep crease in his brow making me want to smooth it out. “I…damn it. I shouldn’t have left like that.” He shakes his head, squeezing my hand and it breaks my heart a little more.

  Trying to make it so that I can talk without too much gasping and sobbing, I turn toward him and wipe my free hand across my cheeks. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.” He nods slightly, but I’m not satisfied with my confession. “I should have tol’ you ‘bout the stripping, and the abortion.” The words come out like poison, but after they pass my lips, I feel better. It’s like there is a weight lifted off of me and I take a deep breath. “I especially should’ve tol’ you ‘bout the night with Brad and Garth, but I just….I…” I can’t continue as the emotion takes over again and I fall victim to a heavy sob that wracks my body, causing me to fall over on the seat and give into it.

  I cry, not caring anymore, just letting it all out. I’m face down in the seat, my knees up to my chest, when I feel his hands rub over my back and grip my waist on either side. He pulls me up and into his arms and I don’t fight him, letting my head fall onto his shoulder as my hands cover my face from his sight.

  “I’m so sorry,” I get out in a hiccup, burying my face into his neck as his arms hold me tight, cradled in his lap. I wish I could take it all back, but this is life and not a movie, so all I have left is to apologize. I grip his jacket as if I can pull myself any closer to him and his hands rub up and down my back, arms, and legs. “I’m jus’ so sorry,” I whisper again, feeling his lips on my forehead ever so lightly.

  “I’m sorry, too, Sweetheart.” His lips move against my skin, warming it and sending tingles deep down into my heart like no one has ever done before and I’m reminded why I need this man. His arms squeeze me tighter and I can feel him tense, his heartbeat just under his shirt beneath my fingertips and I want so much to reach under it and feel his muscles bunch and flex with my touch. I wipe my hand across my face again and bury my face in his neck, my nose just below his left ear; breathing the unique smell that is Bobby in with every breath. His cologne is only faint on his body and that’s alright with me; his masculine scent is enough to calm my heartbeat so that I can catch my breath and stop sniffling.

  “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for leavin’, Ellie,” he says, his chin resting in my hair as his arms tighten around me again. I can feel his jaw working and can hear his teeth grinding as he says, “I’m a coward for doin’ it and I’ll never be able to apologize enough.”

  I let go of his jacket with my left hand and snake it up over his shoulder, taking my time while running my fingertips over the material, ending with my touch just on his neck; unsure of whether or not I should do this. What’s that old saying? ‘If you love something, let it go. If it comes back than it was meant to be?’ or some shit like that? Yeah, I’m going with that right now and going with my heart. Fuck the depression and fuck the demons; I know what I want and I’m sitting in his lap.

  “Sweetheart…I’m jus’ so…” I stop him when I run my hand up his neck, across his chin, and place my fingers on his lips. Those damn lips, they catch my stare for more than a second as my breathing spikes and my heart races. I know I must look like crap, but wiping my other hand over my face and back through my hair, I lean closer to him; feeling his warm breath on my skin as his eyes roam shamelessly over me.

  “Say it again,” I beg, removing my fingers from his lips and locking my eyes on his as I shift in his lap, begging him with every ounce of my body to kiss me. It’s all I need right now.

  That cocky as hell-sexy ass smirk lifts up one corner of his mouth as one of his hands makes its way slowly, painstakingly so, up my back. “Say what, Ellie Mae?” he whispers, running his nose along mine, teasing me. My heart is thundering in my chest and I know he can feel it when his hand rests between my shoulder blades. He knows what I want him to say and he knows how it gets to me every time.

  I move my fingers up, under the edge of his knit hat, along his hairline then down his jaw and back up; my touch just as light as a feather. I can feel how it affects him beneath my ass and it makes me blush. “Call me it again,” I beg again, my chest bumping into his as I shift again; this time straddling him and I love the surprise in his look.

  His head leans back and he’s laughing, chuckling even, at me. What the hell is he laughing at? But before I have the chance to get mad, the hand that was between my shoulder blades is gently, but commandingly, gripping the back of my neck; his thumb and fingers just underneath my ears. His nose runs along mine, his lips brushing mine only for a split second and I’m his prisoner; happily so trapped in this truck cab with him.


  “My… Sweetheart,” he whispers the name I love and I don’t hold it in anymore. I grip his face and slam my lips into his, hearing him grunt in reply. It’s so familiar, the feel and taste of his lips against mine as they slowly move in sync at first. He’s holding back, his hand still gripped at the back of my neck as if he doesn’t know that I want him to touch me. I don’t want him to hold back and I lean into him, up on my knees so that my body arches into his and I can’t hold in the giggle of my reaction at the smile that caresses his lips pressed to mine.

  My fingers rake over the back of his head, pushing his knit hat up and off as his hand on the small of my back moves down and over my jean covered ass; not skipping a beat in gripping each cheek and making me squeal when he bites my bottom lip. He’s still grinning into our kiss as I make him lean his head back, his other hand gripping into my hair and pulling it slightly; the tension of it running through me like lightning and setting my body on fire even further than it is. This is Bobby, he just does something to me and I fucking love it. When my fingers tug at his hair his hand moves from mine to grip the back of my neck again, gentle but demanding, applying only a tiny bit of pressure but my limbs feel like going slack at the action and I sink into his kiss letting him claim my lips.

  “God, I missed you, Sweetheart,” he mumbles against my lips as he shifts beneath me and when his rock hard, trapped in his jeans, erection brushes the inside of my thigh, my body shakes in anticipation and need. I know he felt it and as he bites my lip, soothing it with his tongue and pulling my face tight to his, the hand on my butt moves around to my belly; lifting my jacket and shirt seeking the button and zipper of my jeans. Before I even have time to take my lips from his, the button and zipper are open and his hand is diving in, making me squeal both in delight and surprise. He holds my mouth to his, mumbling an apology as his cold fingers brush my clit, immediately sending an uncontrollable tremor through my legs. One touch, that’s all it takes.