Page 33 of Holding Ground

I gesture into the room with my hand and shine the flashlight inside. I don’t dare follow Emelia inside the bedroom. Tonight has been temptation enough. The last thing I need is to be with her in a dark bedroom with a mattress.

“Here you go. This work for you?”

Emelia takes a quick look around. “This is great. Thanks, Elliott.” She looks directly at me when she says my name, and something about the way she says it unsteadies me.

I snap my attention away from her and clear my throat. “No problem. Why, uh…why don’t you get in bed since I’ve got the only flashlight, and then I’ll leave.”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

She walks over to the bed and slides underneath the covers.

“If you need anything through the night, I’m in the room at the end of the hall.”

Her eyes widen for a heartbeat, and I realize how that must have sounded.

Jesus. Get your shit together, man.

“I didn’t…well, you know what I mean.”

She nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Without embarrassing myself further, I pull the door closed and head to my room. By the time I slide into bed, I have a raging hard-on that I’m too stubborn to take care of. I refuse to beat off to thoughts of Emelia when she’s in the next room.

The idea is ridiculous when she represents everything I hate.

Unfortunately, my dick doesn’t get the message, and it takes me damn near an hour before my erection subsides and I can finally fall asleep.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Emelia

The next morning, it takes me a moment to get my bearings. The unfamiliar room comes into focus as I sit up in bed. That’s when I remember the events of last night.

Elliott bursting into the bunkie like a superhero intent on saving the damsel in distress. The way his gaze dipped to my chest when I stood in my wet, see-through tank top, and how it made a warm thrumming sensation pool in my belly. How he didn’t hesitate to offer me somewhere to sleep, even though he loathes me.

Despite the issues between us, I only felt relief when he appeared last night, as though I intrinsically knew that he would take care of the problem and keep me safe.

After sliding out of bed, I slowly open the bedroom door and slip into the bathroom. When I’m done, I work up the courage to find and face Elliott. In the light of day, it feels harder than it did in the middle of a thunderstorm with the lights off.

There’s no sign of Baylor, so I head down the hall toward the kitchen. I’m hopeful that he’s already up because there’s no way I’m going to knock on his bedroom door.

When I enter the kitchen, he’s not there. So I glance out the sliding door to see the damage on the bunkie. Elliott is just returning, walking toward the house. Rather than remaining in the kitchen and risking Baylor finding me, I slide the door to the side and meet him as he’s coming up onto the deck.

“How’s everything look?”

He scrubs his palm over the stubble on his jaw, and I’m pretty sure that’s my answer. “The tree took out the back corner of the bunkie. The damage is mostly contained to the walk-in closet, but it’s open to the elements, so you won’t be able to stay there until it’s fixed.”

“I was hoping it wasn’t as bad as it sounded last night.” I frown.

“Afraid so.” He glances over his shoulder at the bunkie. “Think you’re staying with us.”

My stomach swoops. “I wouldn’t put you through the torture.”

I’m trying to keep my response light, ease some of the tension between us, only now I can’t tell where the tension is coming from. Is it because we don’t like each other still, or is it because something else shifted between us last night?

“It’s my fault. I deserve the penance.” He pushes a hand through his hair. It falls perfectly into place, with the same effortless look it always has, which I can see is indeed effortless.