“Eli, I can’t…”
The sobs came through, and Eli clenched the phone tighter. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I thought I was doing you a favor. Brodie Distillery a favor.”
“No, it’s… You swooped in and took this meeting and made great things happen.” She hiccuped. “And I know how much you hate things like this.”
He ignored the small surge of anger, letting the tiny ripples settle before speaking. “It really was fun and my pleasure. I’m good with people, and it was a nice change of pace to use that for something other than talking down a cab fare in a foreign city.”
She laughed, and some of the worry unclenched his stomach. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll make a businessman out of me.”
“Oh God. No. I would never force you to that kind of life.”
Thank God he was in another state. The look he felt on his face would have scared Tabby silent. Why did she always assume it would be torture for him? Had he really come across that hateful and distant over the years in regards to his family legacy? Despite his family business shortcomings, he had never truly felt that way. Sure, the feelings that had assaulted him only hours earlier in the conference room were common anytime he was home and thrust into the family fold. But he loved them. His leaving was more about finding his own place rather than being the third son in the Ellis Empire.
Just as Tabby had carved out hers.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll be here. And Eli?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.”
He ended the call. Unease flickered, leaving his skin raw. He’d thought this would be the next step in showing her how well they worked together. How he could be her partner in life and even in business. And while he had no doubt she was grateful on all levels, she’d jumped right back on the assumption that he’d only done it as favor. That it was a task, not something he enjoyed.
But he had enjoyed it. Gotten a rush when the idea of a longer contract had slid into his mind and he’d felt the exploding excitement pumping through his veins when England had signed his name to the paper and they’d shaken hands to seal the deal. Never in all the years of being an Ellis had excitement and a business deal been compatible, but this time? This moment—helping Tabby—had been exhilarating.
Could he find a way to explain that to Tabby? A way to really drive home that, while this was about helping her in a time of need, it was also helping him. A revelation into his character as well.
…
Tabby dropped the phone on the bed and laughed. Eli had done it. God, had he come through for Brodie Distillery. Five years. Of course, she would have to deal with England for even longer than she wanted, but in terms of business? Heck yeah, huge coup.
Her fingers trailed the T-shirt lying on top of the comforter. It was Eli’s, and she’d stolen it from his room last night. Somehow, his presence had become the norm, and when it was absent last night, she’d been unbalanced. Incomplete.
So she’d stolen his shirt and slept in it.
Picking it up, she crossed down the hall to his room and put it back in the dresser. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked around at the space he’d made his own. His camera bag sitting in the overstuffed chair, a couple of framed prints lining the dresser. His clothes were in the drawers or hanging in the now vacated closet. The room even smelled of him, that clean, rustic scent that was his and his alone. She knew her nose, knew how pheromones worked, but it seemed only Eli’s scent brought that heat to her belly. Even with him gone, just sitting where he slept and where he lived had her blood pumping faster and tingles erupting along her skin.
She jumped up and left the room. She needed to get past this. This companionship they’d formed.
Eli seemed happy. He’d made a home here with her. He was eager and excited to help her and learn with her as she took over the business.
But it wasn’t permanent.
His happiness would fade.
He and his scent would leave.
And her damn pheromones would have to suck it up.
A truck pulled up in front of the cabin, and Tabby tensed to leap up and see if it was Eli. Instead, she heeded the doctor’s warning and slowly slid her legs off the mound of pillows they’d been propped on and moved to the edge of the sofa. When no nausea swelled up her throat, she stood, and confidence grew in the nice normal mellow capacity of her belly region.
A door slammed, and she strained to hear foot falls on the porch. It was ridiculous to be so happy to have him home. It wasn’t even his home, and yet in the days he’d overtaken her space prior to the business trip, she’d gotten used to his presence. His smell, his nearness, sparked something in her.
Boot heels rang out on the planks, and three strides later, the door opened.
“Welcome home, dealmaker.”
The grin that spilled across Eli’s face shifted Tabby’s foundation. Pride supported the glee. And it wasn’t a grateful pride. It was pride in a job well done.
He strode right up to her and swung her around. She yelped in surprise and knew her grin matched his. When he finally set her on her feet, she met his gaze. “Thank you.”
He didn’t respond but rather seemed to be waiting for her to add something. When she couldn’t come up with anything, he shook his head and rubbed a hand over her stomach. “How are we feeling?”
“Great.” She pulled away and went to the kitchen to pour drinks. Moments like this were heaven and hell. She wanted them. Craved them. Eli coming home to tell her about the day and her sharing her successes and the children running around. Each night they would tell them a different story about Maisie or Isaiah. It was there. Happening. Within her grasp. Except the foundation behind it was false, and it would crumble. She needed to be stronger about it, find a way to block the emotions that fed useless dreams.
He came into the kitchen behind her and picked up a glass of iced tea she’d poured. “So what’s next on the Brodie’s conquering empire itinerary?”
“Got a taste of success and addicted, huh?” Again that strange expression crossed his face, but it disappeared on a smile.
“Something like that.”
“Well, unfortunately, I can’t feed your newly acquired fix. That meeting was the biggest thing on my plate. Mateo’s handling this month’s batch and most likely will continue through the births. Shipments of barley are due in, but other than testing it, which I’m more than capable of doing, nothing there needs handling.” There was more, but she needed to deal with it. Her hands and feet. Not any Ellis in the mix.
Eli set his glass on the counter and crossed his arms. “That’s it. Cutting me cold turkey. You’re a cruel mistress, Tabitha Brodie.”
Something in his tone brought her gaze colliding into his. She couldn’t move as he and his lips came closer. And when his breath fanned her face in an intimate caress, he whispered, “Guess I’ll find a new addiction.”
Lips crashed into each other, the first taste of his coffee-sweetened mouth producing a groan so elemental, Tabby wondered if a bear was outside the door looking for food.
And truth was she was hungry. For this. For his touch. His taste. The intimate sweep of his tongue. The roaming hands that brought her already sensitive body to life.
Eli pulled her closer, her sensitive chest meeting his rock-hard one. The pain and ecstasy rolled together in joyful torture. And with that dichotomy, she gave up resisting. Him in her home. Working side by side. She would greedily take everything and ask for nothing in return. He was a smart man and would come to his senses, and she wouldn’t cling, no matter how much her heart or her body begged her to.
She reached around and grabbed his ass, pulling him tighter against her. He angled the kiss deeper, growling into her mouth.
Eli stepped forward, and her back came up against the counter. He picked her up, set
tling her on the edge and stepping into her body. Everything fit perfectly.
A cool breeze flitted across her chest. Eli had unbuttoned her shirt, the heat of his fingers as they traced her skin contrasting with the cool air of the cabin. She let her hands skim his chest and move farther down.
“Tabby?”
It was a question. One she needed to answer before they moved too far.
She knew what she wanted, and she knew Eli would give it to her. Tugging his lip between her teeth, she opened her eyes to meet his, swirling with passion and hesitation.
A shrill whistle pierced the room and broke the haze, shattering it into pieces.
Eli swore, stepping back and fumbling through his pockets. He produced his phone and ended the noise, but it had been enough.
Enough for Tabby to accept that this had gone too far. Too far until she was absolutely sure she would take the final step.
He met her gaze and cocked his head. They were both struggling with the after effects, panting and shaking with unfulfilled release.
“Eli.”
He stepped back into her and placed a finger against her lips. Leaning his forehead against hers, he smiled. “Cutting me cold again. You are a cruel mistress, Tabitha Brodie.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tabby couldn’t remember a time when a man she’d dated hadn’t been measured up to Eli and found lacking. At first, it was probably a subconscious comparison. But the older she’d gotten, the more confident in who she was and her role in life, the easier it had been to say they didn’t measure up.
In any way.
There were the ones who’d dated her purely for her money and family. They’d been easy to spot. Always commenting on sizes and name brands. Subtlety not anywhere on their person. Then there’d been the ones trying to get to Maisie. Boy, had she and her sister had a field day with them.
But the hardest ones were the truly genuine guys. They’d respected her independence and confidence. They had appreciated her down-to-earth quality. The only thing they lacked was not being Elijah Ellis. And that had needed to stop. When she became fully aware of what she’d been sabotaging most of her life, she’d made a good-hearted effort to not hold up the measuring stick. But while excelling at everything she ever set her mind to, trying to give a man the benefit of the doubt in regards to a future with her hadn’t even made the starting line.
Tabby loaded the last dish, flipped up the door, and set it to heavy wash. She leaned against the nearly silent machine and clasped her hands on her belly.
Her future had been taken over. Most likely long before she’d let Eli into her home.
She no longer dreamed, even if it was sabotaged from the get-go thanks to the unattainable status, about the family and husband she would have one day. These babies were her family. The extended family surrounding her would have to be enough. And Eli would have to realize that no amount of life-changing decisions he made would allow her to imagine anything other than him leaving at some point. Him leaving her here to carry on. Because that’s how it should be. Sacrificing his career and talent for her and the babies wasn’t acceptable. Being a crutch for her wasn’t a way for either of them to live.
The sorrow hit her heart in a steady pulse. Grabbing the afghan off the back of the chair, she wrapped it around her shoulders and went onto her back deck. The porch swing had been a gift from her father when she’d moved into this cabin. The two of them had ended days regularly, swinging back here, discussing the distillery and life. Her father had understood her need to move out of the big cabin but always seemed to find an excuse to linger here with her. She’d never taken those moments for granted, especially after losing her mother so young, and it was a boon in her grief that she had fond memories of their talks.
More recently, she and Maisie had spent evenings out here, talking about the baby and how her sister’s life would change once he or she came. Tabby had joked that her role as aunt was to spoil them rotten then hand them back. Only now who would do that?
A different type of sorrow and pain swirled with her thoughts of Eli. Forcing her mind back to the present, she focused on her perfect view of Mount Le Conte. Swaying on the swing had the freeing effect of letting any burdens, problems, and puzzles disperse into the cool mountain breeze.
One toe sending her into a glide, Tabby rubbed her stomach and hummed one of the hymns Eli’s mom had always sung whenever she’d been busy. Which meant pretty much all the time as the woman had never stopped.
Eli had inherited his need to be in constant motion from her. He had to be doing, arranging, fixing, helping. And his latest project was her. Except there seemed to be more than the drive to protect. More compulsion than what she’d witnessed over the years. It was as if their night together at the wedding had linked them in a way that hadn’t been there before, and even though Eli might not recognize it, his actions had more possession to them than before. Not that he viewed her as property, but emotions were way more involved with this than maybe even both of them realized.
She loved him. She no longer hid from that fact. But he didn’t love her. He desired her, cared for her, but love was a whole different ball game with him. Love came with sacrifices she refused to let him make.
Yes, he did seem to be happy. He smiled, laughed, and jumped in with both hands, but it would wear thin. He didn’t display that same joy as when he used to discuss his next shoot. His next trip. She’d heard him in the birthing barn. Having my next assignment is what fuels my life in between. Life in Gatlinburg couldn’t be what Eli needed.
The yip yip of a pack of coyotes sounded, quickly followed by the howling and echoing. Life here in the mountains was her stopping point—being on the distillery property surrounded by her family while she raised these babies. Everything she needed here was everything that would suffocate Eli. She couldn’t leave here anymore than he could stay, and the pain echoing through her heart would overwhelm her if she let it.
She rubbed her stomach. They were her focus. Everything she did was for their lives.
“Perfect night, huh?”
She glanced over to see Eli sliding off a tie and tossing it on a little woven branch table she’d picked up in the arts commune.
“I think it is, but I’m sure you’ve seen more spectacular sights than a clear night in the Smokies.”
He stared at her and smiled. “Nothing has ever looked more beautiful than now.”
Heat arced across the small distance, nailing Tabby right in the chest. Her breasts tightened as she took in the possessive desire etched in his face. Nothing shocking about it. They’d been building to this moment since he’d found her in the malting house three weeks ago.
“I’ll admit my view is pretty spectacular at the moment as well.”
He prowled toward her, stopping at her feet. Leaning down, one hand planted on the edge of the swing, the other beside her curled legs, he searched her gaze, recognized a mutual passion, and swooped in. The kiss went straight to inferno. No pussyfooting around with sweet nips and nibbles. Sweeping tongues stoking the heat until Tabby’s skin would scorch anything it came in contact with. She rose, he followed, their lips never leaving each other, and then she was in his arms.
The thunder came from nowhere, deep rumbles reverberating through the mountains and trees, and yet nothing stopped them. This passion needed a culmination.
She couldn’t get close enough, their clothes too much of a barrier. Her shirt went first, lost to the wind whipping through the back deck. Eli’s followed, and her fingers feasted on what the cotton concealed. She traced his abdomen, his muscles flickering in response as he angled his head to delve deeper into her mouth. She moaned, the sound lost on another low rumble of thunder.
Her heart thudded in her ears. She couldn’t think as Eli’s hands explored with a perfect blend of pain and pleasure.
A bolt of lightning finally broke through t
heir lust-fueled haze, and she blinked several times before focusing on his heated gaze.
“Inside.”
Eli scooped her up and crashed his lips back down on hers, all while maneuvering them through the French doors and back into the cabin. She would have been pretty content to have been thrown down on the cliché-as-hell bear rug, only he kept moving, as he raised her pulse to bursting proportions. Only when her bare back hit the quilt did he allow her another moment to catch her breath. He dropped a feather-light kiss on her forehead and made to move down her body.
She tugged his wrist and his body onto the bed beside her. He came willingly and stretched his glorious body next to hers. Every inch of her was on fire. Every touch, every nerve on edge waiting, begging for the next step. The next kiss, the next caress. The anticipation a frenzy in which she didn’t know if she would survive.
And then he stopped.
She propped up on one elbow and returned an arched eyebrow, her finger stroking his hip.
“Can you do this? Should we do this?”
Those were two different questions. And she wasn’t touching the second one with a ten-foot pole. Especially because of the sincere concern raking his face at that moment. She knew how much hauling back had cost him, every muscle and line of his body frozen in tense hardness.
She kissed him sweetly.
“Yes, I can do this.”
She pulled at his shoulders, and Eli went willingly, skepticism still lingering around his sharp jaw and brown eyes.
“Together. You and me. Now.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Have you thought of names?”
Tabby let her eyes remain closed. Goose bumps rose where his words rumbled against her cheek. Honesty would open up another area of her heart, another part she would have to work ten times as hard to heal when he left.
But after last night? Well, she doubted much of her would ever be the same.
His Reason to Stay Page 13
