Blame It On Your Heart (Big Timber) Read online

  Tiles exploded with a crash as he swung so hard he thought he might have cracked the concrete base underneath. "Adorable," he said, clenching his teeth hard enough crack his molars. He didn't want to think about Anthony, the way his eyes crinkled and the dimple that appeared at the right corner of his mouth when he smiled, and that glint in his eye that was pure Ellie.

  There was so much of her in Anthony, he could almost pretend the kid got here through immaculate conception.

  Someday we're going to have a daughter who's just like you, and she's going to turn you gray before you're forty. His own words echoed through his head echoed through his head, followed by Ellie's reply.

  I'm not worried. You'll keep her in line for me.

  His fingers tightened around the smooth handle, and he shoved the memory away, telling himself it was the half beer he'd drunk on an empty stomach that made his stomach feel like he's slugged back battery acid.

  "Poor little guy, growing up without a father. And the way he left Ellie high and dry like that."

  Damon kept quiet and continued his smashing. And so what if he was picturing Troy Franklin's face superimposed over the tiles. Because that selfish fucker had screwed over his young son.

  Not because the asshole had treated Ellie like shit.

  Any protective instincts Damon had for Ellie had been obliterated that long ago afternoon. "She made her choices." And she hadn't chosen him. "She went into that marriage with her eyes wide open."

  "You think she should be punished, for what she did to you?"

  Damon let the hammer fall with a clatter and turned and pinned Vivian with a glare. "Whatever she did to me happened about a hundred years ago. And I could give a good God damn what happens to her good, bad, or otherwise."

  She shot him a deadpan look that said she wasn't buying it for an instant.

  But it was the truth, Goddammit. It had to be. Otherwise he didn't know how the hell he was going to survive the next weeks, months—however long it took before Ellie decided to pick up and run again.

  At least he could take comfort in that. Because one thing he knew for damn sure that there was no way Ellie was sticking in Big Timber for the long haul.

  ###

  Ellie lay on her back, staring into the darkness, as the sound of the clock on the night stand echoed through the room. Though she knew it wouldn't do any good, she turned to look. The hands glowed faintly, showing the time to be three seventeen a.m.

  She'd fallen into bed at nine, right after she put Anthony to bed in Molly's old room. Despite her exhaustion, emotional and physical, she couldn't get to sleep.

  How could she, with her stomach churning and her brain echoing with Molly's words. "I don't get what you're so upset about. You're the one who dumped him."

  Those two sentences brought up a whole tangle of emotions she'd spent the last thirteen years trying not to feel. Guilt. Grief. Anger.

  To this day, even to think about the look on Damon's face, to remember how she'd treated him after, was enough to make her face flame and her stomach sink with that gut deep knowledge that she'd fucked up. Big time.

  Then again, so had he.

  Still, that didn't blunt the guilt or change the fact that she'd hurt somebody she'd loved. Someone who had loved her back with his whole heart, who would have done nearly anything to make her happy.

  Nearly.

  Her stomach tightened and her skin bloomed with perspiration that had nothing to do with the temperature of her childhood bedroom. Even in the dead of summer, the breeze blowing off the mountains and through her window was cool.

  No, this was the nasty burn of knowing how badly she'd wronged him. How badly they'd wronged each other.

  Coward that she was, she did everything she could not to dwell on the memory of that day, or the years of happiness that led up to it.

  But seeing Damon again, the man he'd become—the man she could have had—combined with Molly's casually delivered remark, obliterated the wall she'd built around the memories of that time, the people they'd been, the mistakes they made. Now it was all bursting forth, overwhelming her.

  It was May 2000, the night of Damon's high school graduation. Jimmy Bain's parents had let him throw a rager for the seniors, complete with a keg and a barrel of jungle juice.

  They didn't stay long. Ellie hadn't even made it through her first cup of the ever clear-spiked punch—under the very disapproving eye of Molly, who at fifteen had no business being there much less giving her the stink eye. But her boyfriend was Jimmy Bain's cousin, so naturally she'd tagged along.

  Despite the glares, Ellie didn't worry too much about Molly busting her for drinking. Molly had bigger problems on her hands, in the form of 230 lb Josh Patton who, despite his size, was already showing the effects of the half dozen beer bongs he'd already done.

  "Let's get out of here," Damon said, sliding his hand around her waist as he plucked the cup from her hand.

  "The party's just starting," she protested.

  "We can have our own party," he said, pulling her close with that wicked grin that never failed to make her knees weak and her skin tingle.

  "Is that all you ever think about?" she said with a playful slap, doing her best to sound offended. Truth was, ever since she and Damon had exchanged virginity two summers ago, it was almost all she could think about too.

  And when she wasn't thinking about the way his hands, lips and body could drive her to the brink of insanity, she was thinking about everything else involving Damon. Like what her wedding dress would look like, the house they would build on that piece of land out by the old girls’ school.

  "It's hard not to, when you're so sexy," he said, nuzzling her neck before capturing her mouth in a slow deep kiss. It only took a few seconds before the cat calls and shouts of "get a room!" started.

  He gave her one last peck and pulled away. When she looked into his eyes again, the wicked glint was gone, his gaze serious in the way that meant he had something big on his mind.

  "What is it?" she said softly, her stomach clenching with worry. "Is it your dad?" This past spring his dad had ruptured a disk in his back while working in his auto repair shop and been unable to work for several weeks while it healed. Though Damon pitched in to cover as much as he could, without another full time mechanic the shop had suffered severe losses.

  "No, but I do have something important to talk to you about. Let's go somewhere and talk."

  She put her hand in his, though she couldn't escape the niggle of unease tugging at her. She shoved it away, chalking it up to the slight buzz she'd acquired from the punch. This was Damon, who, almost from the moment they'd met, had looked out for her.

  Loved her.

  Whatever was on his mind, no matter how serious, it couldn't be anything bad.

  Still, she could sense his tension as she rode shotgun in the cab of his pickup. "Are you going to give me a hint what this is about?" she prodded as they turned towards the abandoned school house up off Thompson Road.

  "You'll find out soon enough."

  "Please?" she wheedled as she reached out to stroke her hand up his thigh. "I'll be extra nice."

  He chuckled as he covered her hand with hers, stopping it short before it reached her target, but not before she could feel the heat emanating from the thickening bulge between his legs. "You're going to make me drive off the road," he said and firmly took her hand off his leg, pressing it into the seat next to him.

  Snatching her hand back, she gave a little huff of frustration and folded her arms across her chest.

  "Don't get in a snit."

  "I'm not in a snit," she snapped. "But if it's so damn important, you could at least give me an idea what it's about.

  "Patience, grasshopper."

  "You know me too well to ask for that," she said with a roll of her eyes.

  "Good thing I have enough for both of us," he said and slid his hand across the seat to capture hers.

  She tried to snatch it away. Unperturbed, Damon threa
ded his fingers through hers and held it firmly in his grip. Within seconds her bloodstream was flooded with familiar warmth, breaking down her front offense.

  Sighing, she slid across the bench seat and rested her head on his shoulder.

  They really were perfectly matched, she mused as they bumped along the dirt road in companionable silence. Filling each other’s holes, complementing each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

  Although, she had to admit, the weaknesses were mostly on her side. Impatient, impetuous, impulsive. That was Ellie in a nutshell.

  Lucky for her she had Damon to back her up, steadfast, logical, willing and able to pull her out of the many jams she'd gotten herself in. And never once did he make her feel stupid or incompetent. Like the time she'd nearly ruined the engine of her mother's Jeep Cherokee by accidentally filling the fuel tank with diesel. Her own mother had rolled her eyes back into her head and wondered aloud how she'd managed to birth a daughter with no more common sense than a goat. Damon had quietly salvaged the car's abused engine and explained why it was important to fill your car with only the type of fuel specified.

  As long as he was here by her side, she knew she'd always have someone at her back, ever ready to catch her when she fell.

  "Here we are," he said giving her hand a little squeeze before he released it to shift gears and park the truck next to the remains of the old building.

  Ellie hopped out, smiling in anticipation as she watched Damon retrieve a thick sleeping bag from the truck bed. He might have a serious matter to discuss, but she had a pretty good idea how they would spend most of the next three hours before her eleven o'clock curfew.

  As he spread the sleeping bag Ellie marveled as she always did at the sheer beauty of this spot, the way the glow of the sunset hit the jagged mountaintops, turning the cold granite gray into fiery shades of orange and pink. She'd loved the mountains from the time she was a little girl, when her mother would bring her and Molly here when their father was deployed and the loneliness of whatever army base they were living on became too much to bear.

  It had been six years since Adele had left her husband and moved back here for good, and Ellie was still in awe of these mountains.

  And of this spot in particular, she mused, her heart catching like it had the first time Damon had showed it to her, right after he got his driver's license. "Someday, El, I'm going to save up enough money to buy this land and build a house for us."

  Someday, she thought with a shiver of happiness. To most people it would sound like the pipe dreams of kids too young to know what they were doing. But she knew Damon meant every word. Just as she knew there was no future for her without him in it.

  Someday… it was getting closer, with Damon graduated and off to MSU this fall, and her in her senior year. Her heart clenched at the thought of being apart from him, but Bozeman was only an hour away, and she'd be following him there the following fall.

  She would survive it, she told herself, even as the thought made her eyes burn with tears.

  Stop dwelling on it, she scolded herself. You can't spend the whole summer moping about him leaving.

  "Come here," he said in that low, raspy voice she so loved, reaching out a big broad hand to beckon her down next to him.

  Eagerly she sank down next to him on the sleeping bag and curved her hand around his neck to pull his mouth down to hers. Within seconds she was on her back, his weight resting heavily on her. Heat pulsed through her as his hand slid under the hem of her tank top, rough against the smooth skin of her belly.

  Then higher to cup her breast, the heat of his hand so intense she wondered that it didn't vaporize the thin satin of her bra.

  She let out a soft moan as he brushed his thumb across her nipple, sending shocks of need to her very core. His mouth moved over her cheeks, down her neck, sucking at the spot under her ear that he knew would drive her crazy. Wetness pooled between her legs, and she knew she was ready for him. But Damon wasn't finished, kissing, caressing, licking, exploring, building her need to a fever pitch.

  Ellie's best friend, Laura, complained that as soon as she'd started having sex with her boyfriend Jack, that was all he wanted to do. To the point where she was lucky to get a few kisses and a boob squeeze before Jack was shoving a knee between their legs and pushing his way in.

  Damon was different, Ellie had said, barely able to suppress a smug grin. From the very first time, with him as new at this and as nervous as she was, he'd never treated her with anything but patience and care. Taking his time, taking it slow to make sure she enjoyed every single moment.

  Sometimes a little too slow, she thought now, rocking her hips impatiently under him. Sometimes, like now, when all it took was the taste of his mouth on hers and the feel of his hands on her bare skin to make her crave the feel of him inside her, she wished he would just roll her to her back and take her like she knew he wanted to.

  "Please, Damon," she said, urging him along. "I want you now."

  "Are you sure?" he said, his breath coming in short bursts. "I don't want to hurt you. I want to make sure you're ready."

  "I am ready," she said, breathless as she took his hand and dragged it pointedly between her legs. With her skirt bunched up around her waist, the only barrier between his fingers and her was the flimsy stretch lace of her panties.

  With one tug of his fingers even that was gone. They groaned in unison as he gently stroked her wet heat.

  "Please,” she said again. “I'm ready."

  Within seconds they were both naked, the late spring air washing over their skin. "I love you," Damon murmured against her lips as he slowly pushed himself inside of her.

  "I love you too," Ellie whispered. Her breath caught in her throat, and she let out a little cry of pleasure.

  He froze. "Shit, did I hurt you?"

  "No," she said with a breathy laugh. She rocked her hips to take him deeper, loving the way his own breath caught, the deep groan that strained from his chest. "You never hurt me." At least, not since the first few times when her body struggled to accommodate his size. "You could never hurt me."

  ###

  "I didn't mean for that to happen."

  She felt the vibration of his rumbling voice from where her head rested contentedly on his chest, her body pleasantly exhausted and pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. "Bull," she said, propping herself up on her elbows so she could meet his gaze in the fading light. "Since when in the past two years have you gotten me alone without the intention of separating me from my panties?" Not that she was any better.

  "Fair enough," he said, white teeth flashing in the twilight. "I just didn't mean for it to happen first. I was hoping it would be part of the celebration after."

  "After what?"

  He leaned up and kissed her, then gently pushed her aside and reached for the jeans that had been discarded in a heap next to the sleeping bag. He pulled something from the pocket and said, "After I gave you this."

  Ellie's skin went hot, then cold, when she saw the velvet box resting on his broad palm. Her heart beat so loud she could barely hear herself as she sputtered, "Damon, is that, is that what, what I think it is?"

  Wordlessly he flipped open the box. Ellie gasped, her hand flying to cover her parted lips as she saw the shiny silver band with a sparkly stone set in the middle. "Oh my God, is that real?"

  He let out a huff. "Of course it's real," he said, sounding slightly wounded. "You think I'd buy you something that small and have it not be real?"

  "It's small, but it sure is sparkly," she breathed, shell-shocked as she tried to absorb what was happening.

  "So you'll wear it?'

  Ellie dragged her eyes back to Damon's, her heart clutching in her chest as she met his gaze, all full of hope, apprehension, and most of all love. For her.

  "Of course I will," she said, eyes stinging with happy tears as she held out her left hand and let him slide the narrow band down her ring finger. "It fits perfectly," she said, holding her hand out to a
dmire the way the gold contrasted with her spring tan. "But I thought we were going to wait a couple years to do this."

  "Don't you want to marry me?"

  "Of course I want to marry you! You know I do. It's just, you know our parents will freak out."

  Her mother's words rang in her head. Don't be in such a hurry to grow up. Be independent. Life changes once you tie your future to someone else's, no matter how much you love him.

  It did no good to remind her mother that Damon was different, that he knew there was no way Ellie was going to put up with being a military wife and mother, moving every couple of years from one base to another.

  Damon shrugged. "I'm not saying we have to get married right away—you still need to graduate. But if we know we're going to do it, why not let everybody know how serious we are."

  Ellie gave a watery laugh. "I can't believe you're proposing to me when I'm naked," she said as she wound her arms around his neck.

  "It wasn't what I planned, I swear," he said cupping her cheek, holding her in place for his kiss.

  When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, she let out a sigh. "We're going to have to make up something to tell our kids when they ask."

  "We're going to have to make up something for my mom. Once she gets over the shock, she's going to want all the details."

  The wind kicked up, making her shiver. "My mom is going to freak out," she said, reaching for her clothes as Damon did the same. "She's already trying to talk me out of going to Bozeman next year. I swear I could kill Mrs. Harper for putting the idea of me going to art school in her head. I never should have volunteered to illustrate that stupid short story collection." As part of their English program this year, students had been encouraged to submit short stories to a volume published by the high school English department.

  When Mrs. Harper, Ellie's guidance counselor, had seen the drawings Ellie had submitted to accompany the text, she'd gotten it into her head that Ellie needed to attend a school with a competitive fine arts program, like Rhode Island School of Design or School of Art Chicago. With her grades, Mrs. Harper enthusiastically informed Ellie's mother, Ellie was likely to qualify for an academic scholarship.