When he lifted his head, Ellie’s body was pressed snug against his and her eyes were once again closed.
“Save that thought, sweetheart. And next time, I’ll make sure there’s no interruptions.”
With a wink, he turned and left her house, wishing like hell his dick wasn’t rock hard.
Tomorrow morning couldn’t get here soon enough.
Chapter Five
Pacing the living room, Ellie plucked at the fabric of the black and white sundress she wore. Why the hell she was dressing up to tour Wyattville was beyond her.
Then again, how she’d let Tyson Wyatt—Sheriff of Wyattville—talk her into going out in the first place was also a mystery.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. So much for keeping a low profile, Ms. Smarty Pants.
She glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes to ten. Maybe he wouldn’t show, or would change his mind about today.
Disappointment had her stomach sinking and she blinked in dismay at the realization.
She wanted to go. Being inside day in and out was driving her crazy. The idea of wandering around Wyattville, enjoying fresh air and the summer sunshine was like being offered a trip to the Bahamas right now.
Her gaze slid to the clock again. Thirteen minutes to ten. Walking to the antique mirror on the wall, she checked her appearance.
A scowl slid across her face as she pinched her cheeks to bring color into them. Why hadn’t she packed any makeup?
Because this is not a vacation where you’re out bar-hopping to meet guys. You’re here to hide.
Well, at least she’d had some lip-gloss to apply. Though that almost didn’t count as makeup in her book.
Sighing, she walked into the kitchen and glanced at the computer. She’d caved and turned it on early this morning, but had just barely stopped herself from logging into her email or any social networks.
Still, it was up and chugging along—she’d been right about it being dial-up—and sitting on some recipe site.
She pursed her lips as curiosity kicked in her gut. Maybe she could check out the Chicago Tribune online and see if there was any information about the trial.
Jerking the chair away from the computer desk, she slid in and quickly typed in the website. The little browser spun in circles while the computer made little chugging noises as it struggled to change pages.
Damn dial-up. She glanced at the clock. Shit, it was already seven minutes until ten.
The website slowly popped up and she scrolled the mouse down over the headlines. Lower, lower. There it was.
Her gut clenched and fear slammed into her, dampening her palms and drying out her mouth.
She clicked on the link and waited for the article to open. Her gaze slid to the clock again. Five minutes.
The article blinked onto the screen and she quickly scanned the content. One week until the trial…and shit, they mentioned a key witness was missing. Her. Though, thank God they didn’t give her name.
Guilt twisted in her gut. What if by some chance James went free?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Ellie jumped in the chair, her heart rising to her throat. Tyson was early.
“Just a minute,” she yelled hoarsely as she fumbled to shut down the computer, but the damn browser kept freezing.
With a curse, she turned off just the monitor, not wanting to risk hurting the computer by powering off the hard drive.
Drawing in a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and went into the front room, opening the door.
Tyson stood on the porch, thumbs hooked in the loops of his jeans as he smiled that impossibly sexy grin.
Her stomach flipped and her pulse kicked up a notch. Good lord, she’d almost forgotten how sexy he was. But unfortunately she hadn’t forgotten how that mouth had felt on her breasts, or how those talented hands had brought her the best orgasm ever last night.
Oh, wow, suddenly a trip to the bedroom sounded almost more appealing than a trip into town.
She lifted her gaze back to Tyson’s face and found his smile had faded. Instead his gaze smoldered with heat as it slid over her body.
“You look mighty sexy in that dress, sweetheart.”
Her cheeks warmed with the compliment, and she gave a small smile, far more pleased than she should’ve been at what he thought of her appearance.
“Thank you.”
Tyson cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe we should get out of here? Because if I step inside the house, we’re not going to be leaving anytime soon.”
Ellie bit her lip and gave him a slow smile. So they were on the same wavelength. “Hmm. I suppose we can always come back afterward.”
“I like how you think.” He grinned again and took her hand, pulling her through the doorway.
Closing the door behind her, Ellie tried to smother the ache of arousal, wondering if maybe she should’ve tried a little harder to convince him to stay.
Chapter Six
“Did you eat breakfast?” Tyson asked when they were in the car a few minutes later.
“Yeah. I’ve been up since six.”
“Morning person, huh? I like that in a girl.”
He slung an arm over her seat and turned to glance over his shoulder as he backed down the drive.
“Yes, well, it’s more out of habit. I’m up doing yoga at seven a.m. every morning.”
“Ah. So you must work afternoons? Evenings?”
Both. Whenever they’d needed her to teach. But that was teaching yoga classes, not waitressing like she’d told him.
“Right. I’m the swing shift.”
“Italian?”
Her lips curved in amusement. “Why are you so determined to figure out where I work?”
“It’s my nature, sweetheart.”
“I guess it must go with the job.” She hesitated, and then figured if she told him, it might tide him over for a bit. “Yes. Italian.”
He grinned and cast her a sideways glance. “Nice. I love me some Spaghetti Carbonara.”
“Tell me about it. It’s my parents’ favorite, actually.”
Which was another truth. She smiled wistfully, thinking back on her parents’ penchant for good wine and Italian food.
Her smile faded and her stomach clenched. God, they must be worried sick. By now, they probably suspected she’d fled town, versus being the victim of foul play.
Though, if she’d stayed in Chicago, her chances of the latter would have gone up… Even though it was warm in the car, a cold shiver racked her body.
“You look like someone just walked over your grave,” Tyson said softly.
She blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the unease as she forced a small smile.
“Sorry. Just a bad thought mixing with the good ones for a moment,” she admitted honestly, and it felt good.
It felt good not to lie, and it felt good to admit there were dark, terrifying thoughts running through her head. Though it would have been nicer to confess to the full extent. To be able to confide in someone.
But, for the last year, there’d been no one. No one who knew just how much she’d gone through with James. The mental and physical abuse she’d suffered at his hands.
Unconsciously, she reached up and touched the small, faded scar on her left cheek. The night James had given it to her would probably be forever branded in her mind.
Tyson caught her hand and smoothed his thumb over the inside of her palm. “Do you want to talk about it, Ellie?”
Talk about what?
James’s red face, twisted with fury, flashed through her head. Him storming toward her.
“I told you to mind your fucking business, bitch.”
And then his fist had slammed into her cheek. The bruise had faded, but the money clip he’d been clenching had forever left its mark.
Ellie shook her head, her throat tight with emotion, as once again she found herself lying. “It’s nothing. Really.”
Tyson didn’t buy it for a second. Whatever had been going through
her head hadn’t been nothing. Her expression had been taut with whatever demons she was silently fighting.
He finally had to drag his gaze away from her to watch the road, turning the car onto Main Street a few minutes later.
Ellie let out a small gasp. “Oh, wow, it’s so pretty and picturesque. Like something out of a painting…”
Tyson let his gaze slide over the street, trying to let himself see it through her eyes. Most of the buildings spanning the street were over a hundred years old. Though many had been remodeled and recently painted white.
At the end of the street was Sage Park, where the trail led down to the beach. Wyattville was centered around an inlet of the Pacific Ocean, so you had to hike a half mile to get directly to the beach. But, this time of year, the call of the ocean seemed to be in everyone’s hearts.
He braked to let Mrs. Avery and her toddler cross the street. All over town, people were out socializing and enjoying the summer.
“Yeah, this town is really something,” he murmured. “Careful now, ’cause it’ll grow on you.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”
Tyson pulled his truck into an open spot and climbed out, hurrying around to open Ellie’s door. She already had it half open and one leg out when he got there.
“Oh, wow, sorry.” Her cheeks tinged pink and her eyebrows rose. “I’ve never had a guy actually do that before…you know, open my door for me.”
He scowled and took her hand, helping her down from his truck. “You’ve been hanging out with the wrong kind of guys, sweetheart.”
Her fingers clenched around his for a moment, before she gave a strained laugh. “Apparently. I’ll try to do better.”
Not caring that anyone walking by would see them—and no doubt be curious who the sheriff was flirting with—Tyson pulled her to him and caught her chin, lifting it so she met his gaze.
“While you’re here, I’ll personally see to it that you do, sweetheart.”
He brushed his lips against hers, making the gesture soft and unthreatening. Keeping his control rigidly in check, even as her lips parted on a shaky breath.
When he lifted his head, her eyes almost seemed to have a gleam of tears, then she blinked and it was gone.
Tyson’s gut kicked with tenderness and an unfamiliar protectiveness for this woman.
“Let’s go walk around town,” he said softly and caught her hand, giving it a small squeeze.
She nodded and her hand even seemed to tighten around his as they stepped onto the sidewalk and moved down the street.
“These buildings are so quaint. Like little old houses people put shops in,” she said, shaking her head. “How old are they anyway?”
“Late nineteenth century. They’ve had good upkeep though. ’Bout every five to ten years they get a fresh paint job.” He gestured to the store they were passing. “Mrs. Carty owns the Yarn Barn here, she’s been around almost as long as these buildings.”
Ellie gave an amused laugh and glanced up at him. “And I’m sure she’d love being referred to as over a century old.”
Tyson gave a playful scowl. “Give her another twelve years and she’ll be a century.”
“Wow. And she still can run a business?”
“Her granddaughter mostly runs the shop now, but Mrs. Carty still comes in a few days a week to make sure things are in order.”
“That’s incredible.” Ellie sighed. “I can’t knit. Or sew. Or anything along those lines.”
“But you can cook. That steak last night was pretty darn amazing.” Tyson rubbed his belly as it growled. “Getting hungry just thinking about it.”
“Thank you. Didn’t you grab breakfast?”
“Course I did. But I’m always hungry. Which is why our first stop is going to be Kate’s Cakes.”
“Cake? For breakfast?”
“They got more than cake.”
Tyson steered them to the side as a younger man carrying a couple of grocery bags walked by.
“Morning, Sheriff.”
“Morning, Chip. Wife at home?”
Chip stopped walking and shifted his bags, grinning. “No, Sally ditched me with the grocery list, and went to a scrapbooking party with friends.”
“Nice of her.” Tyson grinned and glanced at Ellie, pulling her forward. “This here is Elin—well, just call her Ellie. She’s staying at—”
“The Bakemans’ house. Right. Welcome, Ellie. I’d shake your hand but my arms are a bit tied up. I’m Chip.”
Ellie gave a small smile and nodded. “No problem. Nice to meet you, Chip.”
“Will I see you at poker tonight, Ty?”
Tyson hesitated, his thumb sliding over the softness of Ellie’s inner wrist. Poker on Saturday night was a tradition, and even though he and Ellie didn’t have any official plans, he intended to remedy that.
His plans tonight had nothing to do with getting lucky in cards, and everything to do with getting lucky in bed.
“Don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight,” he said lightly. “But say hi to the boys.”
Chip’s grin turned knowing. “Will do, Sheriff. Well, I’d best get these groceries home. You two have a good day.”
“Chip and Sally are newlyweds,” Tyson explained as they continued down the sidewalk.
“That’s sweet.”
“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind if I just introduce you as Ellie for now. Unless you want me to try the Eli—”
“Ellie is perfect. I know my full name can tend to tie the tongue in knots.” She cleared her throat. “So, does everyone pretty much know everyone in town?”
“For the most part, especially if you live here long enough. Though, there’s always some folks who prefer to be left alone.”
“That sounds kind of nice. The knowing your neighbors bit…”
When he glanced down at her, he caught the amazement and wistfulness fading from her expression.
“Though I suppose it’s harder to just fade into obscurity in a small town.”
Fade into obscurity? Tyson’s brows drew together at her interesting choice in words. He kept his gaze straight ahead and decided not to reply to her comment, since she seemed a bit lost in her own world.
“There’s Kate’s Cakes,” he said instead, pulling her toward Kate’s shop.
“Where? Oh! Look at that. It’s like…pink frosting melting over the doorway. This place is so original.”
“Wait until you try her stuff. Prepare for a sugar orgasm.”
She looked up at him, her lips curving into a tempting smile as her eyes flashed with heated challenge.
“A sugar orgasm, hmm? I wonder how that compares with a regular one.”
Tyson’s cock twitched and his blood thundered through his veins. He tugged on her hand, stopping her before she could step into the shop.
“Well, you had one last night,” he drawled softly. “After you try a cupcake here, you can let me know.”
She licked her lips and placed one pink fingernail on his T-shirt, tracing it over his chest.
“And what if I needed a reminder of last night’s orgasm? You know, in case I forgot and want to compare?”
Tyson drew in a ragged breath as every muscle in his body strained to jerk her against him and let her feel exactly what her question had done to his cock.
“I think a reminder can be arranged.” He caught her finger and traced it with his thumb. “Especially since I’ll be at your place tonight.”
Her brow arched. “Hmm. It seems you were so entirely confident on that fact, that you bailed on poker tonight.”
“Pretty confident.” His mouth curved into a half smile. “More so now that you’ve requested a reminder.”
She moistened her lips with her tongue. “Will that be a hardship for you?”
“Oh, it’ll be hard, Ellie. You don’t need to worry about that.”
A tremble racked her body and she seemed at a loss for words after their seductive verbal sparring.
&n
bsp; “Come on, before curiosity gets the better of Kate and she comes outside to get us.”
He reached for the door handle, but before he could grab it, the door swung inward and a woman stepped out.
“Tyson!”
She watched as Tyson bit back a sigh and pasted a wide smile onto his face, before drawing the woman into his arms for a hug.
“Hey there, Mom.”
Chapter Seven
Mom? Mom?
Ellie’s cheeks burned scarlet and she knew her eyes had to be the size of half dollars.
Jesus, how much had she seen? They hadn’t done anything too scandalous had they?
She took a second to look over Tyson’s mom. The woman appeared early-forties, though must have been at least close to sixty, going by what Tyson had told her. And she was still absolutely beautiful.
Dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and familiar blue eyes watched her with open curiosity. She was tall, probably five ten at least, and thin.
The woman pulled away from Tyson and glanced curiously at Ellie.
“Forgive me for being so rude, I’m Sharon Wyatt, Tyson’s mother. You must be the new girl in town. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Finally meet her? She hadn’t even been in town a week and had only known Tyson the past two days.
“Mom, this is Ellie. We were just stopping by Kate’s to grab something to eat.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wyatt,” Ellie replied and reached out to shake the other woman’s hand.
“Oh, we’re not real formal here in town, honey. Give me a hug.” Sharon scoffed and then drew Ellie into a tight embrace “Aren’t you lovely. I can see why Tyson’s keeping you to himself.”
Ellie’s heart skipped a beat, before she pushed aside the initial warmth and happiness the comment it had evoked.
“Now, I heard you go by Ellie, but how do you pronounce your full name?”
Eleanor. She bit back her instinctive response, even as guilt pricked that she had to lie. Again.
“Elinamifia.”
“Well, that’s a…lovely name.” Sharon glanced between the two of them and frowned. “I was just picking up some cupcakes for dessert at the barbeque this afternoon. You’re coming, aren’t you, Tyson?”
Going Down: Holding Out for a Hero, Book 1 Page 4
