In His Kiss (Love On The North Shore Book 4)

by Christina Tetreault

  “We’re supposed to be adults. Adults eat their real food before dessert.” Striker snatched the bag away and put it down behind him.

  Ella stuck her tongue out at him and went back to unpacking their lunch. “Being an adult isn’t any fun.” She pouted and set a bowl of fresh cut fruit between them.

  It was neither the time nor the place, but he couldn’t resist. Striker slipped his hand under her T-shirt, his fingers closing around her breast. “Not any fun?” He squeezed gently and kissed the exposed skin on her shoulder. “I can show you a lot of ways adults get to have fun.” Kissing her neck again, he dipped his fingers into her bra.

  She groaned, her eyelids lowering, and she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. “You’re right.” She looked at him. “I can’t believe I just said that.” She tugged his hand out from under her shirt. “Let’s eat before you get us both in trouble.”

  Unlike some people, anxiety increased rather than killed his appetite. So, while Ella picked at her turkey sandwich, he consumed his as well as a fair amount of the fruit and the chips she packed. At the rate she ate, they’d be sitting there when the sun went down.

  “I made up my mind.” She wrapped her partially eaten sandwich back up and dug into the bakery bag instead.

  About him?

  “You’d better take yours now before I eat them both.” She didn’t wait to break a piece off the large dark cookie and pop it into her mouth.

  He accepted the bag, but didn’t reach for the cookie inside.

  Ella broke off another chunk as she swallowed her mouthful. She held it near her lips but didn’t eat it. “I’m going to take over for Maryann at the dance studio when she leaves in January.”

  He mentally pumped his fist in the air. She planned on staying in town. Regardless of her decision, he’d planned to propose. But now he didn’t have a year-long separation to look forward to. One less thing to worry about today.

  “You decided to not take the position in France?” Stupid question. No way could she take over as director at Prism and teach in Paris. But he wanted confirmation. Needed to hear her say she wasn’t leaving him.

  “I’m not going. I already let the university know.” Ella stuffed the cookie in her mouth and turned her gaze toward the lake.

  “You sure that’s what you want?” What the hell? Striker considered kicking his own ass the second the words came out. He shouldn’t say or do anything to make her reconsider her decision. But he remembered her telling him what a great opportunity it was. He’d hate to see her pass on it now and regret not going later.

  “Positive.” She tossed her food aside. The half-eaten cookie landed on her sandwich, and she wiped her hands on her shorts rather than go for a napkin. “I love it there, but I don’t want to leave everyone again for so long.”

  Did she lump him into that “everyone” category?

  “I… I, um….” Ella didn’t finish her sentence. Instead she pressed her lips together, her eyes still locked on the lake.

  He studied her profile. Saw the muscles in her neck move as she swallowed. Finally, she turned her whole body and faced him.

  “I decided….” She paused again. “When I told you I didn’t know if I wanted to go or not, I actually had already made up my mind.”

  He considered her answer. Processed what it meant. “You lied.”

  Ella nodded, guilt written all over her face.

  His biceps tensed up and he cracked the knuckles on his right hand. “Why?”

  She reached for his hand but he jerked it away. “I—”

  He knew the why. He didn’t need to hear her say it. “You wanted to see what I’d do. Right?” Heat, and not the good kind, passed through his body. “You manipulated things to see if I’d leave you again? Or to see if I’d try to convince you to stay?”

  Regardless of the other mistakes he’d made, he’d always been honest with her. Even when he would’ve preferred to lie or omit details, he forced himself to tell her the truth. Damn it. He’d expected the same from her.

  “Maybe. Kinda. I don’t know exactly.” Remorse and sadness filled her voice. Both pulled at him, but not enough to let the matter go.

  “Guess I passed your test? Is that why you’re telling me now?” He needed to think before he opened his mouth, but his anger made it impossible.

  Ella reached for his fist and moved closer until her leg bumped against his thigh. “I’m telling you because I love you. I loved you when you broke up with me. Loved you while I was in France, and still love you.”

  About time she said it. Anger still pulsed through him, but the words at least satisfied his doubts.

  “The other night the lie slipped out after you saw the letter. I didn’t sit and plan it. Ever since then it’s bothered me.” Her free hand touched his cheek. “I told you now because I needed you to know the truth.”

  “Any other lies you need to get off your chest?”

  She stroked his cheek then trailed her finger across his bottom lip. Despite the anger, his stupid dick reacted. The arousal that had started to diminish came back full- strength.

  “I didn’t date while we were apart. You’re the only person I’ve gone out with in over a year.”

  “Good to know.”

  Striker pulled her hand away. He needed some time and space. He loved her. That hadn’t changed. Never would, but he needed to process her confession. Get his anger under control. He couldn’t do either with her touching him. Reaching for her backpack, he stuffed the chips inside and went for the fruit bowl. “Let’s get going.”

  “Striker, don’t be mad. Please. It was stupid. I know. I should’ve told you the truth when you asked. I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve got both right,” he snapped, regretting it but not enough to apologize. “C’mon. We’re both done eating. Let’s pack up and go.”

  Proposing and anything else would have to wait. No matter how much he loved her, he couldn’t ask her to marry him when he wanted to strangle her. He’d find another time.

  Should’ve kept my mouth shut. Ella walked alongside Striker. He’d remained silent since packing up the rest of their picnic. Somehow, she needed to get around the wall he’d thrown up. Get back the Striker who’d kissed her on the bike trail and teased her by the lake.

  She reached for his hand then jerked her arm back before he noticed. He’d pulled away from her earlier. She couldn’t handle him doing it again. At least until his anger subsided, she’d refrain from touching him. And his anger would go away. Eventually. She hoped.

  Countless times she’d seen him angry or upset. Usually at Cat when she did something only a little sister would attempt. He’d never been angry with her. Of course, until today she’d never given him a reason to be. And she hated it. She’d had no other choice. Keeping the truth bottled up had been eating away at her. The longer she waited to tell him, the worse it would’ve been for them both.

  I forgave him.

  Yeah, but he didn’t lie and try to manipulate you, she reminded herself.

  Breaking someone’s heart is just as bad. “Maybe,” she mumbled under her breath as they walked across the parking lot toward the street.

  “Mack and Jessie aren’t expecting us until seven.” She hoped this wasn’t the end of their day together. Breaking down the invisible barrier between them would be hard enough. It’d be impossible if he dropped her off at home. “What should we do for the rest of the day?”

  “Changed my mind about going tonight.” Striker tossed the blanket and backpack in with the bikes. “You can go over.”

  Her lungs constricted, making it hard to breathe. He was angrier than she’d thought. Had she blown it? She’d been so worried about him leaving her again and breaking her heart. Had she pushed him into doing that?

  A happy couple crossed the street toward the full parking lot, their arms wrapped around each other. Tears stung her eyes as she watched them share a kiss. “Please, Striker. Don’t do this. I made a mistake.” She moved closer and put her palm o
ver his heart. “I love you.”

  He blinked, his eyebrows pinching together. “Don’t do what? Ella—”

  Striker never finished.

  One minute he stood there, his heart beating under her hand. The next he’d grabbed her shoulders and shoved her. Her butt hit the asphalt and pain shot up her spine. She shot her hands out behind her and managed to keep her head from bouncing off the street. Screeching tires and the smell of rubber filled the air, followed by a sickening thud before metal crashed against metal.

  Ella scrambled to her feet, her body protesting the sudden movement, and sprinted to Striker. Loud swearing followed her. When she reached Striker, she looked up to see Brandon Michaels exiting the dark gray sedan now partially attached to Striker’s truck. Then she dismissed him, her only concern the unmoving man at her knees.

  Chapter 16

  Beads of sweat dripped down her back and tears flowed over her cheeks. The urge to scream welled up inside her, but the knot in her throat kept it from escaping. Her entire body shook. Somehow, she got out her smartphone and dialed 911. She regularly renewed her CPR and first aid certification. As she gave the dispatcher the necessary info, she checked his neck for a pulse. Finding it, she kept her fingertips on it. A physical reminder he was alive even if he wasn’t moving and his eyes were closed.

  Around her people gathered, their voices a dull murmur compared to the blood roaring in her ears. A guy she didn’t know grabbed Brandon when he tried to leave. Brandon put up a fight, but his alcohol-muddled brain made his punches sloppy. Now he stood flanked by the first guy and Jack Doyle, both intent on making sure he was there when the police arrived.

  Chief of Police Matthew Ellsbury, Mack’s father, was the first on the scene. Three police cruisers, two ambulances, and a fire truck arrived as Chief Ellsbury reached Ella’s side.

  “Ella.” The police chief’s voice broke through the haze. “I need you to move so they can help Striker.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, he gripped her by the shoulders and gently tugged her up.

  When he got far enough away, Chief Ellsbury wrapped his arms around her. The sob she’d held back escaped, wracking her whole body. “He pushed me out of the way.” Her words came out muffled against his shirt, and large hands rubbed her back. “I didn’t even see the car coming.”

  “Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do you want the paramedics to check you out?”

  The pain in her butt and hands was a minor annoyance compared to the one in her chest. “I’m fine.” Pulling away, she looked around Chief Ellsbury. Police officers gathered statements from anyone who’d seen the accident. She didn’t see Brandon and hoped he sat in a police cruiser. Jack and the other man who’d kept Brandon from running away stood talking to Officer Kelly Bateman.

  Vince and Steve, the same two paramedics who’d treated Striker at the block party, tended to him. From here she couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not.

  He’s alive, she reminded herself. She’d felt his pulse. He’ll be okay.

  The paramedics loaded the stretcher into the ambulance. And like that, Striker was gone.

  She needed to be with him. Even if she had Striker’s keys, his truck wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t walk. It’d take too long.

  “I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Chief Ellsbury said, reading her thoughts and solving the problem for her. “Do you have a purse or anything you need to grab from the truck first?”

  She’d taken only her wallet today, and it still hung from her wrist. And she still clutched her phone. She didn’t care about the backpack and leftover food.

  “No. I have what I need.”

  The police chief nodded and led her to his cruiser.

  In the waiting room, Ella resisted the urge to rub her sore butt. Instead, she adjusted her position in the stiff plastic chair and went back to watching the door marked No Admittance. She’d been sitting there for hours. Or it seemed like it. In reality, it’d probably been less than half an hour. Chief Ellsbury had used the police lights all the way to the hospital.

  “Here you go.” He handed her a steaming cup of liquid then sat down next to her. He’d only left her side twice since arriving at the scene. The first time had been to call Striker’s parents. The second had been to get them both whatever liquid she now held from the vending machine.

  She looked inside. Coffee. “Thank you.”

  “Drinking it will give you something to do other than stare at that door.” He took a sip from his cup. “It’s not from Peggy Sue’s, but I’ve had worse.”

  Ella tried it. The hot liquid was not as sweet as she’d like, but it was drinkable.

  The emergency room’s double glass doors slid open and Edward and Jane Striker rushed in. Tony and Cat entered before Striker’s parents reached her.

  Striker’s mom hugged her. “Have you heard anything?” She wiped tears from her cheeks. The woman’s eyes and nose were red. Ella guessed she looked that way, too.

  “Nothing.”

  “I need answers.” Mrs. Striker stepped away but her husband caught her arm.

  “Jane, let them work. When they’ve got news, they’ll tell us. You know how it goes.”

  Mrs. Striker’s mouth quivered. “Edward, that’s my baby back there. I should be with him. And I would be if it wasn’t my day off.” Jane Striker was an emergency room nurse at the hospital.

  Cat came forward and wrapped an arm around her mom’s shoulders. “Pop’s right. Striker’s in good hands. They’ll get you when they get him stable.” Cat guided her mom over to a seat. “Let’s sit down.”

  With Cat taking care of his wife, Striker’s dad turned his attention to Chief Ellsbury. “Did you get the son of a bitch, Matthew?”

  “Brandon Michaels is at the station. He tried to run, but two witnesses kept him there until we arrived.”

  Tony swore under his breath, but Striker’s father let them all know what he thought of Brandon Michaels. She’d never heard Mr. Striker use such explicit language, but she didn’t fault him for it, because he merely said exactly what she’d been thinking.

  ***

  Kelsey filled another mug with coffee. She wished the restaurant closed sooner. She was beat. The combination of a late night out Saturday and dealing with Drew had zapped all her energy. She was ready to call it a day, take a shower, and hit the sheets.

  “Did you hear? Brandon Michaels got arrested this afternoon.” Mara, the restaurant’s hostess and Lou Masterson’s granddaughter, said. She took a mug, dropped in a tea bag, and filled it with hot water.

  The restaurant had been busy most of the day, and she hadn’t lingered at any table long enough to hear gossip. However, the news didn’t shock her. “Let me guess, for drunk driving?” Everyone knew the guy had a drinking problem. He had since high school. His friends did what they could by taking his keys away when he drank with them. Kelsey guessed he didn’t always drink with company, though. “Either that or he finally hit on the wrong woman and she called the cops.”

  Mara shook her head. “Worse.” She added milk and sugar to her tea. “He hit someone near the park with his car.”

  “Are you talking about Brandon?” Annie asked, joining them and taking two coffee mugs from the shelf. “When Jack came in for dinner, he said the jerk tried to run. He and some other guy kept him from escaping before the police showed up. My cousin said Striker looked pretty bad when they put him on the stretcher.”

  Oh, God no. Not Striker. Instantly, Kelsey got transported back. It’d been a gorgeous July afternoon. She’d had the house to herself. Her parents had driven down to North Carolina for the long holiday weekend. It was the first time they’d left town since well before Ian became ill. She’d been ready to go sit in the backyard and work on her tan when the doorbell rang. She opened it, expecting maybe Cat or Ella. Instead, Police Chief Ellsbury stood on the step. Even before he’d said hello, heart-stopping dread had descended on her. Without asking, she’d known he hadn’t stopped by because he wanted
to borrow one of her dad’s power tools, something he often did.

  “Kelsey, I need to talk to you,” he’d said before stepping inside the house. “There was an accident on Interstate 95, outside of Baltimore.”

  She’d never wish what she’d gone through on anyone, least of all her best friend.

  “I can’t believe Brandon hit Striker and tried to run. What a loser. Did anyone else get hurt?” Mara’s words jolted her back to the present.

  Annie filled the mugs with coffee and then poured two glasses of ginger ale. “Jack didn’t think so.”

  “Was Ella with him?” She was worried about Striker but couldn’t do anything for him; only the doctors could. Ella, she could help. Or at least try to. Cat, too. Striker was her brother. They’d both been there for her when she lost first her brother and then her parents.

  “Yeah. Jack said she looked shaken up, but not hurt. She left with Chief Ellsbury.”

  She couldn’t just walk out. Not without risking her job. She hadn’t seen Lou, the owner, since she’d first come in. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still around. “Mara, is your grandfather still here?”

  “He left early so he could watch the Rebels game.”

  She’d set her DVR to record the football game tonight so she could watch it later. Not because she wanted to see Drew. Nope, she didn’t care if she ever saw him again. She wanted to see the game. Yep, if she told herself that enough times she’d believe it.

  Figures. The man practically lived there, but when she needed him Lou went home. Getting to her friends would have to wait, but at least Cat and Ella had each other.

  ***

  Ella watched the door for Mrs. Striker. Despite her husband and daughter’s attempts, she’d used her access card and entered the treatment area, intent on helping her son. Although Ella agreed she should stay in the waiting room, she understood the woman’s need to be back there. If she had access she’d be back there, too. The wait was killing her. And everyone else around her.

  Not long after Striker’s parents, sister, and Tony arrived, Mack walked in. Now they all sat together in silence.