She said nothing. Alex scooted down next to her.
“We’ve been together for years, baby.”
“We broke up.”
“It was only ever you for me,” he whispered. “Tell me you know that.”
She smiled. “I know that.”
“It’s only ever been me for you.”
“Cocky.”
He held up the ring. “This isn’t fast.”
Her smile grew. “I guess not.”
“Marry me, Tea.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Even though that wasn’t actually a question.”
Alex grinned and pulled up her hand, sliding the ring on her finger.
“That’s the wrong hand, Alex.”
“Told you I didn’t know how to do this.”
“Tea,” he panted into her neck. “Hurry.”
He twisted his hips, rocking them, tilting her up until she…
Yes.
“Alex!”
“Mmmm,” he caught her cries with his mouth. Lips pressed to hers as he moved faster and she felt him groan against her lips.
Needless to say, Alex did know how to celebrate an engagement, even if he was unsure about the asking part.
He was still kissing her. Long, drugging kisses that didn’t stop, even when their bodies ceased to tremble. One hand at her jaw, the other curled in her hair, he lingered at her mouth. Lips swollen with pleasure, she took it. Took him. She curled her arms around him, the light warming them as frost melted from the glass.
“Love you so much.”
“Love you, too.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“You give as good as you get, querido.” Her hand trailed down over the tight muscles of his back. “Always have.”
“Thank you for marrying me.”
Was he going to keep being sweet like this? Ted didn’t think she could handle that. She felt the tears at the corner of her eyes.
“You’re welcome.”
“I want to have babies with you.”
“I know,” she said, smiling. “I do, too.”
“Lots of babies.”
Her smile fell a little.
“How many is lots?”
“Five? Six?”
She blinked and pulled her head back. “Do you think we’re going to have a litter?”
“I’m just saying,” he continued. “We should get started soon. Because we’re going to have a bunch.”
“Oh really?”
“Yep.” He rolled back and pulled her to his side. “They can come one at a time, but I want lots.”
“Alex.”
“I’ll add on to the house. I know an architect that would be perfect for the job.”
“Alex!”
“What?”
“Is there some previously unknown technology that will now allow you to carry and birth children?”
“You’d really know the answer to that better than me.”
“No. There’s not. Which means that I have to carry this football team you’re planning—”
“Football is excessive,” he said. “Basketball team. We can have a basketball team.”
“Which, clue in, is not going to happen.”
“Now you’re just being unreasonable.”
“Alex!”
“What?”
“You don’t get to just decide how many kids we’re having.”
“I didn’t decide. We’re discussing it.”
“We’re fighting about it! When we should be celebrating!”
He rolled over her. “Of course we’re fighting,” he said with a grin. “It’s what we do.”
“I’m rethinking the marriage thing.”
“No, you’re not.”
No. She wasn’t.
“Ted?”
“What?” she snapped.
Alex nibbled up her jaw. Then his mouth was at her ear, teasing it.
He whispered, “We’re going to have so much fun.”
THE END
Epilogue
Allie took a deep breath and locked the front door, glad that the last of the patrons hadn’t put up too much fuss about leaving. Sometimes, they could get rowdy, but that was rare as long as the tall man behind the bar was on the premises.
Ollie Campbell was six and a half feet of pure muscle and, lately, silence. She didn’t know where her friend had gone. She just knew that for the last few months, he’d been quiet. And not his usual quiet, which had always prompted her to draw a smile from him, no matter how silly she had to get.
No, it was a heavier silence.
She didn’t try to draw him out. Didn’t try to draw a smile. Allie no longer had anything to give.
“Allie-girl, what do you need?”
A better job. A full night’s rest. A hug.
Everything.
Allie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt full. Fifteen years with Joe Russell had wrung her dry. Some mornings she woke up and felt like a husk. She liked to remind herself that the cactuses that surrounded her home got through life on practically no water. They just stored up when the rain came down and used that for the lean days. Bursting into bloom for brief, dramatic periods, they filled the desert with joy.
But other than her children’s love, no rain had fallen in Allie’s life for a good long while.
Ollie wiped down the bar in silence, ignoring her as he did most every night. He was busy, she knew. So was she. Though not that busy. During the week, the tips were abysmal because the bar wasn’t full unless a band was playing. Great for training new waitresses. Not great for her bank account. Still Tracey said she’s start putting her on more Fridays and Saturdays when she had more experience. And anything—even minimum wage—was better than sitting at home at night, worrying about the bills after the kids were quiet in bed.
“Ollie, I’m about done.”
“All right.” He put down the rag and waited for her to grab her purse from his office. He’d walk her to her car, just like he did with all the girls. Allie walked down the hall and stretched over the desk to open the file drawer where she and Tracey put their stuff while they were working. No one messed with Ollie’s office. Ever. So his waitresses always knew their stuff was safe. It was a little thing, but working at the Cave made her feel safe, too. Everyone in town—and out of town for that matter—knew Ollie Campbell took care of his people.
When she turned at the door, he was there, waiting for her. Leaning against the door jamb watching her. She blushed as her eyes rose to meet his, realizing she’d probably given him a show while she stretched over his desk to grab her purse.
Not that Ollie thought like that about her. No one did. She was a single mother of four whose husband had left her. Most days, she felt like the single most unsexy woman on the planet. And she’d seen the kind of women Ollie had dated over the years. Tall voluptuous knock-outs. Nothing even bordering on the “cute” she could barely rock on her best nights.
He cleared his throat. “I haven’t asked for a while.”
“Asked what?”
“You all right?”
Such a good guy.
“Yeah. Thanks for the extra hours this week. Christmas kind of wiped me out. And it’s getting warmer again, so the kids are going to need new clothes. Though the boys are mostly taken care of with hand-me-downs and I think my sister has some stuff for Loralie. So that’s good. And—”
“I didn’t ask about the kids.” He stepped into the office, grimacing.
“I don’t—”
“How are you doing, Allie?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”
“You say that every time someone asks, and every night you walk in here, the circles under your eyes a little darker.”
She stiffened. “I’m doing my work, Ollie. Tracey says I—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he clipped, stepping even closer.
“What are you trying to say, then?”
He gritted his teeth. “Seriously
?”
She felt crowded. And Ollie never made her feel crowded. She knew other people probably felt that way, but she never had. From the time he’d been a boy, Ollie Campbell had been the kindest, most considerate boy in the world to her. And having three of her own boys now made her realize that kind and considerate were not the natural states of male children.
But he wasn’t acting very kind or considerate lately. Mostly, he seemed annoyed.
All. The. Time.
“Why are you mad at me?” she whispered, trying not to cry. She cried when she was angry or nervous or just overwhelmed. She hated it. And she felt the tears gathering at the corners now.
He scowled. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Yes, you are. All the time now. It’s like… I’ve done something to piss you off. And I don’t know what. Ever since Joe—”
“I don’t want to talk about your husband, Allie.”
“Ex.”
“You signed divorce papers I don’t know about?”
She blinked and looked up. Ollie towered over her. Well over a foot taller than she was. The tears dried up and her temper rose with her chin when she glared at him.
“No. I have not signed divorce papers because my lawyer can’t find my ex-husband to give them to him. He’s run away, leaving me with four confused children, a lot of debt, and bills I can barely pay. So when I say my ex-husband, it’s because nothing in this world—nothing he could say or do—can make up for having to explain to my four kids why their dad, my ex-husband, is no longer there to say goodnight. Why he can’t even be bothered to call them. So in my mind, Joe is my ex-husband. And he was the minute he stepped foot out of the door while I was serving meatloaf!”
“Allie—”
“I worked my ass off to try to make that marriage good, and my ex-husband gave me nothing. It’s over.”
“Allie-girl—”
“It was over before he walked out the door. That’s how over it is.”
Ollie stepped another foot toward her and suddenly his hand was on the back of her neck. The heavy weight of it shut her up, the dark look on his face made her suck in a quick breath as something foreign, warm, and a little scary curled in her stomach.
“I get that you don’t want me to call Joe your husband,” he said in a low voice.
His hand stayed on her neck and she couldn’t look away.
“Good.”
“He’s your ex. Even though the papers aren’t signed.”
“Exactly.” Why was she out of breath?
“Good to know.”
His head dipped down. Not a lot. Just a fraction. But for a second, her mind was consumed with one thought.
Kiss me. Please.
She blinked and pulled back. His hand left her neck, and he took a full step away from her. Which, with Ollie’s giant legs, was something like half-way to the door.
He cleared his throat again. “You got your stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on then.” He nodded down the hall. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Thanks.”
She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but least he didn’t look annoyed anymore. His face was shut down, but his shoulders were relaxed. Something in her heart eased. Maybe he was just worried she’d make the mistake of taking Joe back if he came begging. It was probably that. Her dad had been worried about the same thing for a while. It must have been that.
But when she walked past him, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and that curl in her belly didn’t ease.
It just got a little warmer.
ELIZABETH HUNTER is a contemporary fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance writer. She is a graduate of the University of Houston Honors College and a former English teacher. She once substitute taught a kindergarten class, but decided that middle school was far less frightening. Thankfully, people now pay her to write books and eighth-graders everywhere rejoice.
She currently lives in Central California with her son, two dogs, many plants, and a sadly dwindling fish tank. She is the author of the Elemental Mysteries and Elemental World series, the Cambio Springs series, the Irin Chronicles, and other works of fiction.
Website: ElizabethHunterWrites.com
Elemental Mysteries fan site: ElementalMysteries.com.
E-mail:
[email protected].
Twitter: @E__Hunter
Find me on Facebook!
DRAFT COPY
FOR REVIEW PURPOSES ONLY
Elizabeth Hunter, Desert Bound
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