Here Comes Trouble (Trouble, Tennessee 0.50)

Bradley chuckled. “If he takes you to your knees, he probably wants you there for another reason.”

“I heard that.” Markie’s high pitched voice filled the room.

“That was quick,” Allister grumbled, never really a fan of Markie’s, but obviously willing to pull out all the stops, if necessary, to keep Ellie in Trouble.

Markie and his flamboyant self sashayed into the room. His white-cotton colored hair was stacked in soft pink rollers and he w

ore a short burgundy silk robe with a bold floral print and a sash tied in the front. “I was up. Met Harley in the hall and sent him for breakfast.” Markie’s southern drawl was Alabamian overkill. “Oh my!” He went to the glass and cried out, “Oh boys. Just you look at my baby girl.” He covered his mouth and muted a cry. He dropped his hand and waved his arm. Turning to the others with marked rage in his red cheeks, he quickly asked, “So when do we kill that despicable bastard?”

“If I could, I would,” Derek said. A real brute of a guy, if Derek made a threat, he generally followed through. Fortunately, Derek also played by rules, too. Unless a child was endangered, the founding fathers did not leave Trouble to go and rectify a problem. Generally, the exes showed up at their gates anyway.

Markie turned to Allister and frowned. “I ought to fuck that son-of-a-bitch up with Allister’s gun.” He fluttered his eyelashes, clearly taunting Allister. “Fuck means beat and gun means weapon in this case, sugar.”

“I assumed.”

“Don’t assume, sugar. In my world assuming is nothing more than an ass shared between you and me.” Markie waggled his brows and growled. “Now that’s a picture I could paint with all sorts of good—”

“Markie, please.” A peace maker with little patience, Bradley often stepped between Markie and Allister. Known for saying off-color remarks, Markie seemingly stepped things up a notch when he thought he could devil Allister.

“Where does he come up with this shit?” Allister asked, going to the coffee pot.

“Let’s focus on you for now, Ellie,” Draegan said in an elevated voice.

“Keep it down guys,” Bradley said. “Too much commotion in here. I’m guessing Draegan can hear us.”

“Ellie, be honest with me,” Draegan continued. “I know this is very difficult. Coming here couldn’t have been easy. Yes, we know one another and I hate this is uncomfortable for you. Since I also know Denny personally—and it’s fair to say I’ve heard about his recent activities—what’d ya say I make this part easy for you?”

“Okay.” Ellie nervously swiped her hair from her face and then jerked as if she’d thought of something. “I uh…I um…didn’t know where else to park…my car that is. It’s mine. I paid for it with my own money. Denny, he’ll, uh, see my car.”

“We’ll talk about your car in a minute.” Draegan emphasized her ownership in the vehicle. Ellie seemingly took great pride in owning something of her own.

Draegan took a seat on the edge of the table. His hips were parallel to her coffee mug and she quickly picked it up and took a sip. He stared at her full lips and Ryan could only imagine what he might have been thinking then. Draegan and Allister were brothers, so Draegan definitely knew about the group romp he’d missed.

Ryan could only hope he wasn’t entertaining his own ideas for Ellie. She wasn’t exactly Draegan’s type. Then again, he wasn’t exactly hiding the obvious. He took an additional minute to body surf.

Damn cocky bastard.

Allister returned to his chair with a Styrofoam cup in hand. “What the hell is he doing?”

“If you ask me, sugar, he’s trying to make her feel comfortable.” Markie rested his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Don’t you boys go and get any foolish suspicions now. Ellie doesn’t look the least bit interested.”

“I know Ellie a little better than you do, Markie,” Allister said. “And if that’s not a look of interest, I haven’t seen one.”

“Then work the brother angle, if ya know what I mean. Tell Draegan to do a brother a favor and keep it zipped.”

“As if—” Ryan deliberately trailed his voice and caught a scowl from Allister. Sure enough, Allister was thinking along those very same lines.

Hell’s fires wouldn’t stop him and the devil wouldn’t detain him. If Draegan had set his sights on Ellie then they’d need to make room in the bedroom, assuming they could ever lure her back to their beds in the first place. The only ace they were holding was a high one indeed—by Draegan’s own countless admissions, he wasn’t finished playing the field.

“Here’s what I think happened. Tell me if I’m right.” Draegan’s loud voice yanked Ryan back to the present about the time Draegan hopped off the table and went into detective mode, not that he had any legitimate experience, but he’d watched enough movies. Draegan had just stepped into his swagger when he stopped in front of Ellie. Apparently noticing another shift in her demeanor, he knelt in front of her.

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and Draegan cupped her hands with his. “Look, Ellie. I’m not judging you. I’m the last person on this earth who would.”

She thinned her lips, setting them in a tight line. “I know.” Her voice cracked and she ducked her head. Then, she added, “It’s just—so—hard—you know?”

“Yeah, honey. I do.” He stood up and grinned at the glass.

“Fuck him,” Allister grated out. “He’s making a play for her.”