Here Comes Trouble (Trouble, Tennessee 0.50)

As if he’d spoken the magic words, she finally relaxed against his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she stared at the image of them in the mirror as if it brought her enormous relief and comfort.

In that moment, he remembered the heartache, the true pain he’d known when he’d heard the news about Ellie and Denny. She was marrying another man, a man who had always been the one to call her his own.

“You’re mine, Ellie. I waited. I was the better man.” His voice caught in his chest and he nuzzled her hair, weaving the tip of his nose through those strawberry-fragranced strands. “But I’m not the better man anymore. I want you and I refuse to play fair this time.”

“Why would you want me now?” She looked up at him and those big brown eyes melted his heart and scorched his soul. “After everything I’ve done, after everything I’ve been, why would you want me?”

“What have you done that’s so bad, Ellie?” Did he care? No. Outside of the important obvious—she was in his arms—he didn’t care about much else except keeping her safe, keeping her within touching distance.

She dragged her fingertips down his cheek and studied his lips as if she’d soon claim them with her kiss. Instead, she slowly caressed his bottom lip, following the shape with her thumb. “I saw his true colors before I married him.” She seemed distant as she admitted as much. “He turned on me after he found out I’d been with you, Ryan, Derek, and Bradley, but he knew where my heart was on the day I married him and for a split second”—she paused before she finished—“I saw the monster. I saw who he really was, Allister. And I still married him.”

Allister wanted to ask her why she’d gone through with the marriage. Instead, he locked his arms around her and kept her close. They had all the time in the world to revisit the past if the past was important to her, but as far as Allister was concerned, she’d already done that with Draegan.

Allister wanted to live in the present. He was interested in the future and coveting every moment of the here and now.

He was what she needed. And Allister needed Ellie just as much. Maybe even more.

* * * *

It was almost seven-thirty in the morning when Ellie finally slipped away from Allister’s arms. She tiptoed to her suitcase, pulled free a pair of pajama pants and matching tank top, and turned around with full intentions of going back to bed.

Instead, she found the hungry and raw male she’d always seen in Allister McCall. His desire-ridden eyes were now encased by shadows, dark circles he hadn’t possessed two years prior.

He still watched her the way he had when

they were in high school, with that brooding look she’d later come to recognize as male heat, a man’s lust.

Given the rise in his jeans, the way he curved his arm around his head and studied her with such devout interest, he had undoubtedly seen her dress. She’d awakened him. He’d apparently watched her in the mirror or stared at her ass as she bent over and stuck one foot in her pajamas and then the other.

She hadn’t bothered with modesty. “I thought you were asleep.”

“And imagine what I might have missed if I had been.” He moistened his lips and crooked his finger back and forth. “Come back to bed. It’s still early.”

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Yeah. With you.”

“And how much does that pay?” She forced a smile.

“You might be surprised,” he rasped, pulling her to bed even as she leaned back and pretended to resist him.

He rolled to his side, supported himself on his elbow, and lifted her shirt right above her bellybutton. As if he were counting the stitches, his lips twitched and he brought her closer, kissing her stomach in tiny circles before he looked up at her and said, “I’ll have the doc write you a prescription if you’re in pain. Are you?”

“No,” she replied, resting her hand on top of his head. “The bullet only grazed the skin. I’m lucky he was drunk. He fired off a few shots but only one nicked me. The only reason I ended up with sutures is because your brother insisted.”

“Harley?”

She snickered. “The worrywart of the family?”

“Yeah. That’s him.”

She laughed. “He said if I had bled out, you’d have the doc’s head, so then the doctor pumped me full of pain medicine, stitched me up, and sent me on my way.”

“Guess that’s why you passed out on me last night.” He traced the area surrounding the four stitches and hesitated. Perhaps he was awaiting an apology.

“Is that what happened?” Her heart skipped a beat as she watched the man she adored, the man who had somehow stole away with her heart so many years ago. “Did I miss anything?”

“I’ll never tell.” Dimples framed his delectable mouth.