Embracing Ellie (K&S Securities 3)

“C’mon,” he says tugging until I follow. Ellie’s eyes meet mine as she sets the table and I shrug as best I can while bent over and wink, trying to act like all of this is an everyday occurrence for me instead of the life changer that it is. I know it’s too soon, but I also know that I need this woman, this family, to be mine. And something tells me that they need me too.

The low murmur of Spanish voices follows us as we leave the room, punctuated by Lizzie’s high, girlish giggles.

“Bedroom.” Auggie leads me through the living room and down a narrow hall with framed photos of Ellie and Lizzie at all stages of their lives. I pause a moment in front of what is clearly one of Lizzy’s wedding and my heart clenches with sadness. She is in a beautiful white dress holding hands with a tall, golden haired man in a tux. They wear matching expressions of adoration. Ellie is beside her sister; she isn’t quite as thin and there aren’t smudges of fatigue under her eyes. She looks young and carefree in a pale-yellow bridesmaid’s dress, blissfully unaware that just a few years later her whole life will change.

There are pictures of Lizzie pregnant and some of Ellie and her sister together. I can see when the happy pictures ended, and more recent pictures were added. Ones where Lizzie is in bright, childish clothes and Ellie’s smile looks tired and forced. The photos paint a crystal-clear picture of the burden Ellie has shouldered to make sure that her family is taken care of. One that is even more clear when little Auggie points at a door with a glitter sign dangling on it that says LIZZIE. “Tia’s room,” he indicates the next room, “Nana’s.” I nod, he clearly doesn’t need me to say anything while he gives me the grand tour.

With his little foot he nudges open the last door. It’s the master, still small, but bigger than the others. “Mine,” he says proudly, leading me to a bright blue toy box with his name painted on the lid. It’s not just his room. Across from his little red bed is a full-sized bed. The comforter is rumpled like it was hastily made by the occupant upon awakening and the sweet smell that I recognize as Ellie’s permeates the air around me.

Putting the small tub of blocks on his bed Auggie stomps into the attached bathroom. “Help,” he says pointing at the sink and scrambling up onto a small stepstool and holding his hands under the faucet while waiting for me to turn on the tap. I do, absently helping him pump soap into his hands and scrubbing them together under the running water before drying them on a brightly colored towel hanging at just the right level for him to reach on his own.

“K,” he grins up at me with his tiny white teeth, very proud of himself. “We go eat.” He reaches both hands up in a gesture that I take to mean that he wants me to carry him. I’ve never carried a kid before, but I remember how Ellie held him on her hip and lift him intending to imitate her. He squeals with excitement, clapping his hands.

“He wants to go higher.” Ellie’s soft voice speaks from the doorway and I glance over at her hoping for further instruction. “Like this,” she crosses the room and holds out her hands for her nephew who practically jumps into her arms. They both laugh as she lifts him up over her head as high as she can reach.

“Now you,” she directs, handing the squirming boy back to me. His light, grey-blue eyes lock with mine, they are striking against his golden skin and dark hair. He must have gotten them from his father since Ellie and Lizzie both have brown eyes.

“Up,” he demands, his tone serious as he blinks at me. What can I do other than lift him up, and up, until he reaches his hand out and touches the ceiling? He starts laughing. It’s loud and infectious. I have a recollection of watching a fellow soldier being greeted by his family upon our return after a rough deployment. His wife openly weeping while he lifted his small son in his arms and swooped him into the air over and over while they both laughed joyfully. I imagine that what I’m feeling is similar in some small way.

I want to make Ellie’s boy laugh like that, so I mimic what I saw that day and pretend to drop him before swinging him back up over my head. Ellie is laughing too, with her face tipped up, with all her attention locked on me. Her scrutiny makes me aware of my own smile in a way I never have been before as I gently lower the giggling toddler to his feet.

“Again?” he pleads, looking first to me

and then to Ellie, his eyes bright with the promise of more adventure.

“It’s time for supper, sweetie. Eat first, and if you finish your food you can play with Blake more before bedtime.” He bobs his head quickly, sending curls bouncing across his forehead before taking off at a run down the hall calling for his Tia and Nana in an animated voice.

“Thanks for playing with him.” She says, her voice filled with affection, “I wasn’t sure how he was going to do with you being here. He’s not used to strangers.”

I can’t stop my smile from returning full force. “I think he likes me.” A feeling of pride, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, expands inside me. Of all the things I’ve accomplished, making friends with a toddler feels like the greatest triumph of my life so far. The only thing that can possibly trump the way I’m feeling right this instant will be knowing beyond a doubt that Ellie is mine.

“He does,” she says, stepping forward and resting her slim hand on my wrist. It’s warm and softer than any hand I can recall. I carefully capture it with mine, holding her in place. I like having her in my personal space and don’t want her to move out of it. She smiles up at me again, emotions I can’t identify snapping in her eyes. I need to kiss her. I can’t wait another second to claim her pouty lips with mine.

A soft tug is all it takes to pull her to my chest, the lush mounds of her breasts pressing against me through the layers of our clothes. A quiet gasp slips from her lips and our gazes crash together. I see the same want in her eyes that is coursing through my body, and I’m sure she can see it in mine as well. Carefully, not wanting to move too fast and break the spell surrounding us, I glide my hand up her arm and over her shoulder until I’m cupping the nape of her neck under the warm weight of her hair.

“Blake,” My name is a whispered plea, tumbling past her parted lips.

“Ellie,” I groan her name in response, my fingers tightening and drawing her even closer. One of her hands slips under my open flannel and settles on my side, her fingers curling into the fabric of my t-shirt. Her tongue peeks out, slicking over her lips as she waits.

Leaning forward, I trail my lips across her soft cheek and press a kiss against the dimple there before moving to the corner of her luscious lips. Letting the very tip of my tongue sneak out I sample her there. She’s delicious, like ripe berries. I can’t tell if it’s her lip gloss, something she ate, or just her, but one taste is all it takes to make me an addict. I quickly repeat the caress, already craving more. One taste of her will never be enough.

A cross between a whimper and a moan vibrates against my mouth as she turns her head slightly, pressing her lips more fully against mine. I nudge them open and nibble at the sweet bow of her upper lip before sliding my tongue in to tease against hers.

“Blake,” she murmurs my name again, winding her arms around my waist and digging her fingers into the ridges of muscle along the base of my spine. Returning her embrace, I straighten, lifting her feet from the floor until her arms release me, only to clasp tightly around my neck, her fingers scraping through my short hair. Slanting my mouth across hers, our tongues tangle urgently, and I devour her sweetness, the sugary taste of her exploding across my taste buds.

“Ellie?” Her mother’s voice is close. Too close. With a gasp she tears her mouth from mine, her heaving breaths matching mine. I hate seeing the dreamy look fade from her eyes as I set her feet back on the floor. She scrambles back a step, her fingers absently stroking her wet, kiss swollen lips.

“We,” she croaks, but before she can finish Beatriz calls again from the hall just out of sight.

“Dinner is ready you two.” It sounds like she is laughing, and I wonder how many times she had to call before we heard her.

“Coming Mama,” she calls back, giving me one last longing glance before turning and hurrying from the room. I stand still for a long moment, catching my breath before reaching down to make a clothing adjustment. My heart is still thundering against my ribs when I step into the hall, willing my erection to subside so I don’t embarrass myself, and follow the chatter of voices and the wonderful smell of dinner back to the kitchen.

Chapter Sixteen

Ellie

I can’t stop feeling the press of Blake’s lips against mine, the scrape of his stubble against my chin and cheeks, tasting the faint hint of cinnamon gum over the smooth flavor of his tongue slipping against mine. It’s that last one that has me pushing my food around on my plate. Mom made my favorite, chicken tacos with loads of cilantro and lime, and the way she keeps looking at me, I know that she is about to say something and draw attention to my lack of appetite.