“Mom’s,” I say, then mutter, “Motherfucker.”
Macklin cackles with laughter.“Momma James played you, brother.”
My mom never talks about Ellison with me.No one does.I told them all not to.Mom’s scheming makes me wonder if there’s something I’ve been missing all these years but was too stubborn to see.Has my stubbornness and my pain from losing her caused me to see things through tinted glasses?
“What is she trying to tell me?”I ask, not expecting an answer.I know the answer.My mom is forcing me to face Ellison, our past, and my heart.
“Not sure, but you should ask her,” Macklin says.
“You told us all not to mention her.Maybe Momma James knows something, and she’s trying to find a way to tell you?”Dixon suggests.
“Tell him what?”Bowen asks, joining us again.
Macklin fills him in, and Bowen chuckles.“Sounds like your mom is trying to play matchmaker.”
“Too much time has passed.”I say the words, but my heart tells me not to believe them.Sure, there are many years between who we were then and who we are now, but it’s still always been Ellison for me.
“Has it?”Bowen asks.
I tear my gaze from Ellison to meet his stare.There’s an expression on his face that I can’t name.Just another reminder that I’ve been gone far too long.“Something you need to tell me, Bo?”I ask.
“Nah, just saying.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to defend myself.To tell them what I saw and why I stayed away.I want to scream at them and tell them how I never heard a word from her after I left.Nothing.But I bite my words, swallowing them back.This isn’t the time or the place.
Instead, I turn my gaze back to Ellison.I try to, anyway.I have to scan the crowd and find her and Kinzie on the dance floor, with two guys dancing with them.
“Who are they?”I ask, my voice gravelly.
All three of the guys follow the stare.“Not sure,” Bowen answers.“I’ve seen them in here a time or two, but I don’t know them.”
“This is your bar.”
He huffs out a laugh.“You think I know everyone who walks through those doors?”
“You should,” I grumble, settling back in my seat.
“You’re just jealous because he’s dancing with your girl,” Macklin teases.
I don’t tell him she’s not mine, because fuck me, to hear someone else say those words after all these years, it sends a warmth followed by a heavy dose of longing through my veins.
When asshole number one—we’ll call him—steps up behind Ellison, I sit up straighter.My heart pounds in my chest.She takes a step forward, as if trying to put distance between them, but the guy doesn’t take the hint.He moves with her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her back into his chest.Her movement slows.I can’t see her face, and it’s been years, but I know her, and she’s uncomfortable.I stand, keeping my eyes on them.
“Cope.”It’s a warning from Bowen.
I get it.This is his bar, but she’s my—she’s Ellison, and I’ll be damned if I sit here and let some jackass get handsy with her when she clearly doesn’t want him to.It’s more than that.Seeing his hands on her, even knowing it’s not what she wants, covers the longing with a burning inferno of flames.Ellison tries to step forward again, but his hold is tight.No one who’s not watching them closely would even notice.
I notice.
Stepping around the table, I move toward them.I hear the guys calling out for me, but I couldn’t give a single fuck.I’m a big guy.At six foot three, I stand taller than most people in this room.I’ve got a good four inches and about forty pounds of muscle on this guy.When I reach them, I place a hand on the guy’s shoulder, squeezing hard.
“Fuck!”He grimaces as she turns toward me.“Fuck off,” he says.His eyes are glassy, and it’s obvious he’s had far too much to drink.
“Hands off the lady,” I tell him.
“I saw this filly first,” he says.“Go find your own.”
“Cope.”It’s Bowen.He places his hand on my shoulder.
