Racing to Love: Eli's Honor

by Amy Gregory

  “I was headed to New York…New York City Ballet—was going to try anyway.”

  “I don’t mean to be shocked, but damn, girl. That’s remarkable. What happened?”

  “By the time I was sixteen, I was dancing about twenty hours a week, more around performances, and almost double that in the summers. To help pay for it all, I started working at a little diner in town. Not making much, but a little, putting it all back, saving for New York. The plan was to graduate high school, my mom and I would work really hard for the next couple of years, save up and we’d hit the city together. We knew it was going to cost a fortune, and I couldn’t really afford to go back and forth trying to audition and secure a part first. We were going to have to risk it all and move there.

  “After high school and two years at the diner, my mom getting a decent raise at the bank she worked at, and spending every spare minute at the local dance studio, we were almost ready to go. We wanted to be there and settled before the weather turned cold.

  “The next thing I knew, it was over–our dreams, my dreams, all of those hours in the studio keeping me away from boys to keep me safe, keep me occupied…it went down the drain.”

  “What happened?” Eli asked, his voice filled with concern.

  “She died.”

  His eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Died. Obviously, it was very unexpected. Brain aneurysm. We never saw it coming. She was forty-one, I was twenty.”

  Honor watched Eli’s face go through layer after layer of emotion, shock, empathy, sadness and several others, but never pity. That was good, she didn’t do pity, and most of all not from him. It was over, she’d put it behind her. Honor missed her mother, but they’d never had the type of relationship that she and Dallas had. Her mother was demanding, and the schedule she kept in the studio to keep her mother happy was grueling. She had loved dancing, she even believed it would solve her problems, but it definitely left her with no life outside of school, and a detachment from her mother.

  From early on, her mother had Honor’s focus trained on making it big, becoming a prima ballerina. Juilliard wasn’t an option financially or logistically, so they made do with their local studio that was more affordable. She worked twice as hard as any other student in toe shoes.

  Those kids…didn’t have to live with her mother.

  She knew nothing outside of school, the diner, or life in the studio. When her mother died, her world came crashing down around her. The structure, the rules, and the constant reminder of why she was working so hard, were all gone. Having lived her whole life with the map in front of her was all she knew, then suddenly that map was crumpled and unreadable.

  “My only friend I really knew asked me to come over. We had danced in several classes together over the years, although her mother wasn’t psychotic. Jenna’s mom was sweet and caring—we’d bake cookies and actually get to eat them. We could stay up and finish watching the movie we were into, even if it meant we’d lose forty-three minutes of valuable sleep. We could talk about boys and not be condemned.

  “Jenna begged me to come over, said I needed to get out of the house, that it had been a month, said I needed to see something other than the walls of my house. I hadn’t been able to dance because, really…I didn’t know how I could pay for it, so why continue? Instead, I sat, packing box after box. My Uncle Travis wanted me to move in with him, I’d have no bills and I could figure out what I wanted to do. He was several years younger than my mom so we were close in age. We were actually more close friends than uncle and niece. He was in the military and often away, so that was the plan.”

  Honor took a long drink of the wine still left in her glass, feeling the burn as it went down her throat. Her past was something she didn’t like to think of, except for the good things, Travis, and of course, Dallas. The rest was just exactly what she’d told Eli—a fucked-up sob story. She let out a breath, then a snort in disbelief that she was really telling him all of it, and continued on.

  “Jenna and I were the same age, twenty. The main difference was she was allowed to date…I wasn’t. When I finally surfaced and made it to her doorstep, she pulled me in and brought me back to life. The next night, her boyfriend brought a pizza by, and his best friend.”

  Honor smirked at pictures playing in her mind. The faces and laughter of years before, the board games they played that night, the best friend’s smile, the way he charmed her. Kolby treated her like no other boy had. Because there had never been another boy. She didn’t know. Didn’t know how to decipher his charm and his good looks. She didn’t know the difference between being friendly and being played.

  “Kolby was sweet, caring, funny and kind. He said all the right things. The next thing I knew, I went from ballet dancer with dreams of New York, to an overgrown orphan, to pregnant all in the span of three months.”

  Honor chanced a look up at Eli’s face. The blank amazement was almost amusing…if her story ended there.

  “I will say, he was a short step above my own sperm donor. Not sure if it was a good step, but I gained Mac from the deal, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world. Talk about a way to meet the family. Kolby’s parents disowned him over disgracing them in our small town. Mac had been in the military too, and when it came time to pick him up at the airport after his tour, Kolby was nowhere to be found. I went alone. Met my brother-in-law for the first time when I was four months pregnant. We hit it off. When he realized how non-existent his brother was as a father, Mac stepped in and took his place. Without ever being asked.

  “Kolby was a damn train wreck. All he cared about was having a good time and his motorcycle. He worked, don’t get me wrong, just not hard. We lived day-to-day. But if I was home with Dallas, he was nowhere to be found. He skidded down the street on his bike going over a hundred miles an hour with no helmet on and drunk as a damn skunk.”

  Eli was still listening, so she threw in the parts that really hurt. So far she’d laid it out like nothing had really mattered, and it didn’t. She hated feeling like that. She should feel some sense of loss over losing two people in her life, but she just felt a void, a blankness. Just…nothing. Except on certain days when she couldn’t afford a new suspension, or a new engine, or any other thing that Dallas needed. Kolby had left her with nothing. That she felt.

  Her only other family was her Uncle Travis. But his life was the service, and although Honor begged, pleaded and cried, his deployments demanded he board the plane. Each time was harder than the last. Burying Travis had ripped out her heart. The Purple Heart they gave her in his place meant nothing if it meant he was gone. Telling Eli about Travis was the first time she teared up. That was the one loss that had shaken her to the core, and only Mac understood at the time.

  By then Kolby and she were no more than roommates, with him only around to watch Dallas as little as possible. There were rumors around town of other women, but she turned the other cheek. She knew they were true. The Kolby she had fallen for was just like the men her mother had warned about, and that pissed her off more than anything, that even from the grave her mother had been right. He was the greatest guy, until he got what he wanted and then some. When she told him she was pregnant, he did a one-eighty, his personality morphed right before her very eyes. And although he married her, she found out later it was only because Mac pressured him into it.

  “I’ve got Dallas and Mac. Funny how my mother demanded I never need a man or have one in my life, and I end up with a son and his uncle. But Dallas is my world. I wouldn’t trade the fights with Kolby, the lack of money, the rough road—none of it, if it meant not having Dallas in my life. I have my son and that’s all I need. I guess as much as I hate to admit it, I do depend on Mac, way more than I would like, but I don’t need anything or anyone else as long as Dallas is taken care of.” Her voice drifted off.

  Chills covered his skin.

  Oh my God.

  Wow, her walls were way taller than he’d expected. But she was wrong. So very fucking wrong. S
he needed him. Just as bad as Eli needed her. He just had to show her, not just what he could give her. She didn’t need or want what money could buy. He needed to prove to her that it was okay to want friendship, to need his arms around her, to crave him. But it looked like such a lost cause now. Funny, the difference an hour and one conversation could make. Unfortunately for Honor, Eli never gave up on something he wanted.

  And he wanted her.

  He now understood why she was so taken back when she walked into his house the first time. Eli didn’t flaunt his money, he wasn’t egotistical, didn’t throw cash around like it grew on trees. He lived very well and saved even better. His home was his sanctuary, and James had designed it with every amenity one could desire. He drove nice vehicles and had a great motorcycle that he babied more than his bad back. That was the end of it. He didn’t go out much, most meals were at home or at Carter’s or Jess’s. Almost always there was Sunday dinner courtesy of Karen, but that was a family gathering and he cherished those times. There were no lavish parties, no exotic trips. His life was the school, and his free time was spent thinking about the school.

  Even with his lack of social spending, it would be glaringly evident to her that he had more than Honor could ever hope to work her ass off for. As he watched her lean her head against the back of the couch, he tried to smile, but his guilt prevented it. Her head was turned, facing him for once.

  She seemed to be over her embarrassment, her face more relaxed than he’d ever seen. Looking down at her hands, he realized it could be the wine he’d been refilling for her all through dinner, the same wine that she’d continued to drink through her story. As tiny as she was and as little as she normally drank, it had gone to work quickly. After hearing how Kolby died, he understood now why she said she very seldom had liquor. But it had worked its magic tonight. He found out about her, way more than he ever expected. Eli was glad, now he knew what he was up against.

  Her eyes slowly drifted shut. Eli pulled in a breath watching her. Very carefully he slipped the wineglass from her fingers.

  “I’m not asleep,” she whispered without opening her eyes.

  He chuckled softly as he set both of their glasses on the coffee table. He had wanted to stay up talking through the night, he wanted to chip away at that tough exterior she had wrapped around her. Eli was dying to know the little things she liked, what made her happy, things she liked to do. He wanted to figure out ways into her heart.

  His plan backfired.

  She had relaxed all right. To the point of being so relaxed she was falling asleep, despite what she said.

  He ran a knuckle across her cheek, the corner of her mouth turned up at the connection, but he wanted more. He wanted to lean in and kiss her again, to take her in his arms and hold her close. He wanted to wake up with her next to him.

  Her eyes opened, it was a struggle he could tell, but she studied him through the sleepy alcohol-induced haze. She was calm, her breathing steady. Eli took a chance and held her face in his hand, stroked her cheek. She didn’t pull out of his hold. Her eyes opened wider, still tired, but more alert. Still he said nothing, at a loss for words as he stared at her.

  When he had taken the chance before dinner and dared to kiss her, she had kissed back. She had panicked when the phone interrupted them, but up to that point she had been all in. Kissing him back with as much passion and need as he felt in his own heart. The chemistry between them stronger than a force field.

  Here now, on the couch, for the first time she wasn’t rushing away, trying to escape being alone with him. Her eyes threatened to close again, but she forced them back open, Eli grinned at the effort it was taking her.

  “What do you want from me, Eli?” She asked, her voice, calm, low and more sultry than normal—for once he could hear the desire lacing her words.

  He knew it was from being tired, but the tone she spoke with swirled around him and just about dragged him under. He wanted her. No, he needed her. Sitting on the couch, he adjusted to relieve the pain she had just caused him. Eli didn’t want to play games, he couldn’t—there was an extra heart on the line. He knew now there had never been anyone else in her life after her late husband, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t even in her life when the fool was alive. Honor had given him a clear picture of her isolated world, and it killed him to think of the heartache and loneliness she had endured over the last several years. Especially, when he’d do anything she’d ask just for the chance to be with her, for the chance to make a life with her.

  His future flashed in front of him and chills broke out across his skin a second time, followed by a burning wave of heat. If possible, his heart sped up even more. He couldn’t help the predatory grin that pulled at his mouth. She was his future. Her and Dallas.

  An epiphany that should have rocked his world and sent him into a panic-driven tailspin—didn’t. It was as if the answer was so obvious that it left him with no room for questions.

  “I want you, sweetheart.”

  With no dropped jaw, no shock, not even a moment to ponder, her words were out of her mouth with no pause.

  “It won’t work, Eli. Not only are we from two different parts of the country, we’re from two entirely different worlds.”

  “We could make logistics work, that wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Eli’s brow furrowed as he scanned her face, read the doubt in her eyes. There was such a conviction in her gaze, he had doubts she’d even try. He had to have a chance. He knew he could make her happy.

  “Eli…I have Dallas.”

  “I know, God…of course I know, Honor. I really think he’s a great kid. I’d love to be a part of his life too.”

  “I can’t let him get attached to something that may or may not work out, that’s not fair to him. He’s had enough heartache for one lifetime. Trust me, I know. I can’t just date you, see if it works, and then move on if it doesn’t. That’s not fair to Dallas. He thinks you’re the end all, be all.” Honor swallowed and blew out a breath.

  “I haven’t even thought about letting another man in my life. If and when I do, it will be because I see something long term. There will be no quick flings, no men in my bed that my son has to wonder about. He comes first. Always.”

  Eli heard her words, there was no fight in them, no whine, they were just simply—final. Softly spoken, but final.

  Shit.

  “It’ll work, I’ll make it work.”

  “Eli, you can’t promise that. You’ve known me a week, well I guess technically two weeks. But really? Seriously? Be realistic, I am not what you want. You’re young, you’re single, you have a great career here, you have so much to offer someone your own age.”

  His hand was cradling her neck and his thumb paused, hovering over her skin. “How young do you think I am, Honor? We’re the same age.”

  She smirked as he began stroking her cheek again, and he grinned, desperately afraid to lose the connection. She was giving him excuse after excuse, and until she pulled away from his contact, he had to believe she wanted him on some level.

  He heard her words, but in his mind he knew if they tried, it would work. He could go to her as often as possible and fly her up to Pennsylvania as often as she’d come. If she would just try.

  “You have to be early to mid-twenties, am I right?”

  “Not even close, Honor. I’ve done my math, you’re thirty-two, correct?”

  She nodded and Eli mischievously locked his gaze on her, “I’ll be thirty soon. So sorry, two years doesn’t hold. One excuse down.”

  Honor had no quick retort. After a long minute, the corner of his mouth turned up, celebrating the small victory.

  “You’re a brat,” she said.

  His heart swelled at the teasing and simple banter. “Yeah, but I’m your brat.”

  The air moved through her lips with a hiss as she sucked in a stressed breath. He’d pushed too far.

  Fuck.

  He just wanted her so bad, and he was so close but so far
away from capturing her heart. Eli watched her eyes slowly close, a blaring gesture that she was closing him out…again.

  There was no way he was about to let that happen. Eli still had three weeks. Three weeks was a ticking time bomb, but he’d pull out all the stops to prove to her that he was the man for her. He’d prove he was long term, as in permanent with a ring on her finger.

  Inching forward, he leaned in. She must have felt him, the tip of her tongue darted out, licking her lips. Eli pulled in a sharp breath watching her mouth, when her tongue dipped back inside he dragged his eyes back up to hers. They were back open, her brow furrowed, the deep violet pulled at him, they were so lost.

  “Please don’t kiss me again, Eli. It hurts too bad.” The sadness was visible all over her face, the faint words, begged. “Don’t make me want something I can’t have, it’s not fair.”

  The knife turned again, his heart breaking, but her plea didn’t stop him. He wanted to show her how he could love her. He continued on. His heart pounded, the whole kiss in slow motion. Eli’s lips barely grazed her, the whisper of a kiss, a hint of more. Again she didn’t pull away.

  To say she’d been hurt badly would have been an understatement. What little self-esteem she’d escaped her mother’s crazy hold with, Kolby had pretty much shattered. She appeared strong, confident, graceful and poised. Eli knew the woman inside was hidden, the pain masked for the benefit of her son.

  He could take that all away.

  “Please.” He mumbled the word against the velvet of her lips, right before he pressed it into her, taking more before she could argue.

  In the silence of the room, the only noises were the crackle of the flames devouring the logs in the fireplace…and their breathing.

  Then his cell phone rang.

  Eli clenched his eyes shut, mentally cursing whoever had the audacity to call and interrupt him. Like they knew what he was doing, but still. Pulling away, he blew out a breath through his nose and smiled, trying to downplay the frustration to the woman sweetly looking at him, a smile tugging at her mouth, but still so cautious. Her head was still resting against the couch, her brow furrowed, the worry present, just staring at him.