Brew: A Love Story

by Tracy Ewens

  “Me too.”

  She leaned in, put a hand on his chest, and kissed him. Only her lips, completely rated G, but his entire body snapped. He pulled her closer and stopped right at PG when Mason cleared his throat.

  “We are going to be late. You two can be all mushy later. I don’t want to miss the previews.”

  Ella beamed and stepped back. She stumbled a little and waved, leaning against her car. Boyd felt like he was finally getting it right. The expression on her face and the backward stumble felt like that moment when a beer recipe comes together, and despite trying to make something extraordinary out of water and plants, it’s perfect. His feelings for Ella, the way she made him feel, all of it was complicated. But in that moment he’d managed to stun her, and it felt good. He was still smiling when they said goodbye.

  When they got into the truck, Mason lifted Boyd’s hand and bumped his fist.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Unexpected. I didn’t think you had that in you. I mean it wasn’t fireman level, but it was close, Dad. Nice execution.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ella settled on jeans after deciding her favorite wraparound dress was too fancy for chili, and the new skirt she’d bought while shopping with Bri and Vienna was god-awful. She didn’t know why she kept thinking she could wear stripes without looking like she was getting on a yacht. Other women pulled it off. Maybe it was her height. Whatever it was, that skirt was going back.

  She pulled on her favorite light sweater, the blue one Sistine made her for her birthday last year. Ella’s mother had what she termed “the cashmere closet” in her bedroom. It was full of luxury in every color. When Ella came home from school and her parents were out, she used to sneak into that closet and put her face to the folded sweaters. They were soft and smelled like Chanel No. 5, but none of them ever made her feel like the one Sistine made with her two hands. Ella supposed kindness changed everything.

  Dropping her hair out of its clip, she put on some mascara and lip gloss. It was chili, she told herself. Chili by its very nature was casual, wasn’t it? She had never seen Boyd dressed in anything other than jeans and she certainly didn’t want to show up overdressed. Was Mason going to be there? It was a school night. She assumed he would be and while she loved seeing him, something in that kiss yesterday had her hoping for time alone. Maybe that was selfish. Did Boyd ever have alone time? If he didn’t, was she fine with that?

  Ella shook her head to silence the endless game of twenty questions. She grabbed the Sift box off the kitchen counter and her keys before she thought everything into the ground. She knew it was collateral damage from Marc that caused her to put anything that came close to her heart under a microscope. She’d seen him at work again yesterday, only a couple of hours after she’d been talking movies with Mason and his father kissed her until she practically fell over. Marc had attempted to rub her shoulders in the nurses’ station and when she’d backed up, she rolled the chair over his foot.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Jesus, Ella. You seemed tense and I was only—”

  She’d stood up. “I’m not tense. I’m perfect. Why are you still here? Isn’t your lecture over?”

  “A few more days.” He’d gestured for her to follow him around the corner.

  Ella stayed put, amazed at the balls on the man. If she didn’t want to scratch his eyes out, she honestly had to give it to him. The gall was right up there with her father.

  “Have dinner with me,” he’d said quietly.

  Ella laughed. It was loud enough for Trudy to turn around. She knew people often laughed hysterically during times of trauma and she supposed that’s what she was experiencing, only less important. She’d learned over the last two years that making Marc as unimportant as possible was the key to her sanity. He wasn’t a trauma, he was a joke. That’s why she laughed, she’d realized. Without another word, she had turned her back to him and asked Trudy if the patient in Exam 3 had indicated any allergies. She’d ignored him and at some point, he must have slithered away.

  Ella sat outside Boyd’s house now. She could hear the cicadas in the trees above.

  Her phone vibrated and she answered.

  “Why are you on your mobile at work, Nurse B?”

  “What are you doing?” Bri asked.

  “Sitting outside Boyd’s house. Why?”

  “I heard Dr. Sith Lord tried to ask you out to dinner yesterday.”

  “Trudy has a big mouth.”

  “I love that about her.”

  “Me too, I guess. Yes, Marc made an ass out of himself again. Why is he there?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s to show contrast, you know? Like an MRI.”

  “Wow, and I work too much? How was your date last night?” Ella asked.

  “Not bad. He’s a touch obsessed with golf, but the man has all the right equipment and he’s not afraid to use it.”

  Her eyes widened. “You slept with him? On the first date?”

  “You sound like my mother. Yes, I slept with him. He has a great body, we had a nice night. Why the hell wouldn’t I sleep with him?”

  “All good points.”

  “Speaking of good and sex. Why are you sitting outside Boyd’s house?”

  “I don’t know. I’m taking a minute. Did you know cicadas only come around every thirteen to seventeen years?”

  “What the hell are cicadas?”

  “They’re locusts. They make that zapping sound in the trees.”

  “Christ, I hate those things. I always think they’re going to drop into my hair.”

  Ella laughed. “Boyd liked science in school too. Did you know he has an engineering background?” She sat in the stillness of her car, picking at the side of her nail polish. She was searching for something to order all the feelings she had for him, but nothing seemed to work. They were all free floating and messy.

  “You know, there are so many comments I can make about science and that engineers know how to erect things, but I’ll keep those gems to myself. Is Mason going to be there for the chili date?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, get in there and find out. If he’s over at a friend’s house or somewhere with his hot uncles and you don’t… I need you to listen to me. If Mason is not in that house and you come to work unable to tell me exactly what Boyd’s headboard looks like, I swear to God I’m disowning you.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “I would. First the Monday thing and now this endless crawl to the inevitable hot sex story. I can’t take much more of this. Do you hear me?”

  “I do. Can I hang up now?”

  “Yes. Go get your man.”

  Ella hung up before Bri launched into actual suggestions on how to “get” Boyd.

  Cade picked Mason up at six to stay the night at his place. After Boyd reminded both of them one more time that school drop-off at 7:15 meant exactly 7:15, he checked to be sure Mason had his books and money for his yearbook before hugging him and messing up the hair that had entirely too much crap in it these days. He would need to thank his brother for that the next time they were alone.

  “We’re going to swing by work first and confirm everything is running nicely and then we’re hitting the town, right little man?”

  “Can I drive?” Mason asked.

  “No, you can’t drive. Cade?”

  “Not this time. Maybe we can take the bike out for a few minutes after dinner.”

  Boyd shook his head.

  “Or not. Let’s get out of here before Mother Hen has us tucked under our blankies by seven.”

  “It’s a school night, Mase.”

  “I know.”

  He did know. He was a good kid, Boyd reminded himself. He knew he sounded like a prude and couldn’t help it if there was some weird guilt thing gnawing at him because he was sending his son off so he could… hell, he had no idea what he was going to do when Ella knocked at the door. Whatever it was required som
e privacy. Cade, always subtle, waggled his eyebrows, told him to “have a good night,” and they were gone.

  Boyd paced around, feeling so out of his element he thought he might need to get drunk. This was insane. After he stirred the chili for what felt like the hundredth time, the doorbell rang. He forgot he had a doorbell. No one ever used it. Before he had a chance to punch himself for thinking that might be a sign, he opened the door.

  “Did you know cicadas—”

  “Come around every thirteen or so years, yeah.”

  Taking the box out of Ella’s hands and tossing it on the half wall between the entryway and the living room, Boyd kissed her before he lost his damn mind.

  He knew it wasn’t gentlemanly to want sex before dinner, but when her hands slid under his shirt and pulled it over his head, he rightly could have pled the Fifth. There was not a man alive, let alone one who couldn’t remember the last time he’d had average sex, who was going to stop what they’d started, politely escort Ella to the dining room, and make sure she had enough butter for her cornbread. She was devouring him in the best way and if he didn’t figure out how to turn off the chili now, they’d be ordering pizza.

  Her purse dropped to the floor as he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him. “Chili,” he said, carrying her into the kitchen.

  “Later,” she breathed into his ear.

  He bumped into the kitchen doorjamb when she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and moaned into his mouth. He had no idea how he found the burner knob on the stove, but he did and managed to make it back to the living room. Holy Christ, he thought as he dropped onto the couch with her straddled across his lap. Pulling her sweater over her head, Boyd felt like he was going up in flames, and then for an instant he felt self-conscious.

  The worst possible thing happened next— his mind kicked on. First with the brilliant suggestion that he needed to hike more, or at least stop taste testing everything Cade put in front of him. And then second with the question of whether or not he remembered how to love a woman.

  What the hell? Shut that shit off and let’s go.

  His body was begging for silence but his brain stayed on. He was confident he knew how to please most women, but loving her was different. That required all sorts of things he’d packed away years ago.

  Ella looked down at him, willing and wanting. Boyd knew he would need to dust those skills off if he was going to do this right. She’d need the pleasure right now, but she would want more eventually.

  “Boyd?”

  Every time she said his name, it was like hearing a song he thought he knew but realizing the new version was better. He needed to just feel his way through this. When had he gotten so up in his head?

  “It’s been a while,” he said.

  What. In. The. Hell?

  “Me too.” She ran her hands over his chest, and he remembered exactly what he was supposed to do next.

  He’d need a bed.

  As he stood them both up, Ella slid down his body. Before he could make his next move, her hands snaked around and she grabbed his ass. A smile stretched across his face. She made him feel hot. Like a guy any woman would ditch her date for. It sounded nuts, but Boyd had been a dad for so long he forgot what it was like to have a woman look at him like she wanted him to climb inside her.

  Most of the women in Boyd’s life wanted to make him brownies or help him with the carpool schedule. There were even the occasional women who wanted to be Mason’s replacement mom, but Ella was none of them. She saw him outside the context of his life while somehow managing to respect everything he held dear. He was a man to her first, and that did something to him, brought him back from somewhere he hadn’t realized he’d gone. For that, for those feelings alone, he needed to get this right. Ella woke him up and now he would make damn sure neither of them fell asleep, at least for tonight.

  When he undid her bra, Ella’s eyes drifted closed. The minute his lips gently touched her shoulder, her mouth almost fell open and she bit the side of her cheek to keep from moaning. They fell into bed and she was wrapped in his arms, their legs tangling. Her body was pulsing with need but somewhere in the middle of their shifting kisses and wandering hands, she sensed a change. She tried not to sound clinical for fear Bri would disown her, but his breathing was labored, his shoulders tensed, and when Ella arched up, her hands gripping at the waistband of his jeans, Boyd pulled back and fell onto his back.

  She glanced over at him and even in the darkness lit only by the full moon, she recognized the look of disappointment. It squashed every sensation in her body. She was never one to question her appeal, but something was wrong.

  Boyd touched her hand, ran his fingers up her arm, but stared at the ceiling. It took Ella longer than it should have to understand why instead of being washed away in the throes of what had been building between them for months. They were side-by-side, breathless and, save their shirts, fully clothed. What had started as barely-in-the-door passion had somehow grown complicated, for him at least, and well, there was no easy way to put it—he was no longer hard. She couldn’t recall if this had ever happened to her before. Most of her sexual experiences were heated, intense—a lot like her life was back then.

  She knew there were moments her last partner was distracted by a case or, she now knew, thinking about his daughter’s braces, but now was not the time to dissect those experiences. She could practically feel Boyd’s mind spinning, his hand still aimlessly touching her skin as if he needed to confirm that she was still there. Ella touched him back, twining her fingers in his and leaning over to kiss his shoulder.

  Sweet Lord, those shoulders.

  His eyes were closed now as if he wanted to somehow transport himself to a place where every man’s worst nightmare had not happened to him. Ella kept her gaze to the ceiling, knew she should say something, but wasn’t sure anything would help. She tried anyway.

  “You know studies show that men are a lot more in their head when it comes to sex than originally—”

  “Not helping.” His voice was a low growl.

  This was crazy. It’s not like they were in some romance novel.

  “Boyd.” Ella rolled on her side and put her hand on his chest. The man turned her on by breathing. She was trying to stay removed from the situation, but doubt crept in. Maybe she didn’t do it for him, maybe that was why—

  “It’s not you.” He turned to her. “Please, dear God, don’t turn this into you.”

  “Oh, I… I know. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I think it is. I had one shot at the heart-pounding first time or even the hot and sweaty screw that left you panting, and I blew both.”

  “I was panting there for a while.”

  “Yeah, that’s because I was wearing you out trying to get it—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. The back of his hand trailed along her bare side and Ella’s entire body was ready again. “I mean, this right here has been keeping me up for weeks. I’ve wanted you for so long. Now you’re right here and—” He kissed her shoulder again and Ella tried to breathe.

  “Maybe we started too fast.” She touched his face. Searched for something to stay connected to him. “Did I tell you my skinned knees are finally healed?”

  Boyd laughed, deep and sexy.

  She swatted his shoulder. “That was not a hint. Although, if that’s working for you, I could keep making awkward sexual references.”

  He dipped his head and brushed his lips along her neck.

  “Everything about you works for me, Ella. I’m sorry. I wanted this to be—”

  And there was the problem. Ella knew all about pressure to perform and expectation. Anxiety to be something someone else imagined was practically in her DNA. She didn’t want him to feel any of that with her. Turning his face to her, she met his beautiful hooded eyes.

  “I’m not looking for anything other than you. I want you. If that means I get you”—she moved closer to him, trailed kisses up his chest and spoke into his ear—“
slow and easy or rough and a little dirty.” She pulled his earlobe between her teeth and bit down gently. “I’m ready. I want all of you, Boyd.” She climbed across his body, kissed the other side of his neck as the pounding in her chest matched his. His arms closed around her. “Please don’t waste your energy figuring out how to turn me on. Breathing—you turn me on by breathing,” she whispered.

  He rolled her onto her back, his expression more hunger than nerves now. Ghosting his hands along her sides, he stopped at her waistband.

  “Do you remember the first time I kissed you?”

  Ella couldn’t speak as he moved the jeans off her body. She nodded.

  “You asked me if there was something between us and about a dozen other questions.” He was braced over her, bare chested, arms flexed, and achingly patient. “Do you remember what I said after we kissed?”

  She could barely remember her address, but she managed to say, “Yes, to all the above?”

  Boyd slid off the bed long enough to remove the rest of his clothes and returned to her, gorgeous and managing to shatter any of her earlier attempts at seduction. She reached for him, and he rested over her on his forearms. He kissed her face, brushed the hair off her neck.

  “Yes, to all the above is my answer again, Ella. Since I blew the last one.”

  It was Ella’s turn to laugh. “There’s no way around the innuendos.”

  He smiled and she stopped laughing. Gloriously naked and suspended over her, he spoke into her neck. “Let’s start with slow and easy.” He kissed her, deep and unhurried. “I’m going to try this again. Are you with me?”

  A soft smile spread across her lips. She loved this man. Deep down in her presently liquid bones, she knew he was her person. The one she was meant to love. Despite all the other crappy stuff, he was a gift.

  “I’m with you,” she managed to say as her hands moved up his back.

  “Good. If slow and easy goes well, maybe you could show me your idea of rough and a little dirty?” He kissed down her neck and by the time he made it to her breasts, Ella lost all conscious thought. She was flooded with sensation and the unbridled need to bring him closer to her than she had ever allowed another human being.