“She’s both,” I agree. “I heard you’re doing firefighter work now. Good for you, man.”
“I liked being an EMT. But I enjoy this more. Speaking of, you should come out with some of us tomorrow night. We’re just going to shoot pool for a bit, but you’d enjoy it. Have a beer or two and shoot the shit with the guys.”
As good as the idea of spending time with my best friend sounds, I start to shake my head.
“Unless you’ve lost your touch when it comes to pool.” He rocks back on his heels. “We wouldn’t want to embarrass you or anything.”
“I’d kick your ugly ass.” It’s a good-natured snarl that makes Sam laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Ellie asks when she joins us. She stands closer to Sam than to me, as if she’s putting space between us on purpose. I narrow my eyes at her.
“I was just ribbing Liam and criticizing his pool-shooting skills,” Sam says. “Or lack thereof.”
“I haven’t lost my pool-playing abilities,” I reply calmly. “I just don’t have to prove it to you to be confident in myself.”
“So, come out with us tomorrow night and prove me wrong.”
“I can’t—”
Ellie cuts me off. “Going out would be wonderful. He could use a night away from work. Count him in.”
I lift a brow. Sam’s smile deepens.
“Awesome. I’ll text you tomorrow.” He nods at Ellie. “Nice to meet you.”
Sam walks out of Drips & Sips, and I turn to Ellie.
“Last time I checked, you didn’t make my schedule.”
She doesn’t reply. She simply walks out of the shop with her head held high and her shoulders back, stopping by the car and waiting for me to open the door for her—which I do.
The ride to the house is full of silence. She’s clearly pissed off about something, but I’ll be damned if I know what. So, I let her brood with her arms crossed and her nose pointed at the passenger window.
I walk her down to the boathouse and reach for her hand when we’re inside her apartment, but she jerks away and scowls up at me.
Here we go. I’m about to get it. I’m not sure exactly why I’m about to be in trouble, but I brace myself for Ellie’s temper.
“Oh, so now you want to touch me?”
I frown. “What does that even mean?”
She shakes her head and moves to stomp away, but I catch her elbow and turn her back to me.
She looks down at my hand and then back up at my face and says with ice in her voice, “Take your hand off me.”
“You won’t run from me,” I reply, but drop my hand as she asked. “If there’s a problem, you’ll tell me right here and now what it is. I don’t have time for childish games.”
“Childish games?” She rounds on me, boosting up to her full height as she jabs her finger in my chest. “I’m not the one playing childish games, Liam Cunningham. That would be you. And I don’t have time for that either. So, you can go about your business, and I’ll do the same. I’ll ring for you if I need you.”
“No.”
She levels me with that regal princess look she has. “Excuse me?”
“I know you’re not used to being told no, but no. What’s got you so damn pissed off?”
“You recoiled from my touch not thirty minutes ago.”
“When?”
She stares at me as if I’m stupid and crosses her arms over her chest. “At the café,” she replies. “I went to touch your arm, and you backed away as if being touched by me was repulsive.”
I sigh and run my hand down my face. “Your touch is not repulsive.”
“You made me feel as if it is.” She sniffs, her nose in the air as if she can’t be bothered with me anymore. But her blue eyes hold the hurt she won’t admit to aloud.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. It would take a lot more than that to hurt me.”
She turns away, but I reach for her again. She doesn’t pull away this time.
“I was on duty,” I remind her and drag my fingertip down her smooth, pale cheek. “And not only that, but we were also in public.”
She blinks rapidly as if she’d forgotten. I have to remember that she’s young and inexperienced.
“Someone could have snapped a picture and posted it all over social media, then your cover would have been blown,” I continue. I press a light kiss to her forehead. “You know that better than anyone.”
“I’m daft,” she whispers.
“No, you’re not. You’re a woman in an intimate relationship with a man. Casually touching me isn’t inappropriate most of the time, but we have to remember that this isn’t a normal situation. It’s my job to protect you, and that includes making sure you’re never in a position that puts you at risk.”
“I know you’re excellent at your job,” she says. “And I understand that what we do behind closed doors is ours alone. I’ll be more mindful when it’s not just the two of us.”
“If this is blurring too many lines for you, making it difficult, we can end it.”
Say you don’t want to end it. The thought of not touching her anymore makes me crazy. I haven’t even been inside her yet, and I’m already addicted to her. I’ve never felt this way before. If a woman decided it wasn’t working for her, I didn’t care if she moved on.
I’m not ready to say goodbye to this relationship with Ellie.
“No.” She sighs. “I lost my mind there for a moment, but I’m fine now, thank you.”
I kiss her forehead again, and when she tips her face up, I brush my lips across hers. I can’t get enough of her taste. Taking things slow is a torturous, painful mini-death but I’m also enjoying the task of introducing Ellie to her sensuality.
Losing one’s virginity doesn’t have to be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. She should be seduced, slowly.
I might be a dead man when all is said and done, but it’ll be worth it.
I slip my hands up her arms and cradle her face as I sink into her, kissing her long and slow. She always moans softly, surrenders herself completely to me.
It’s a damn sight to behold.
But rather than letting me take things further, she plants her hands on my chest and backs away a few inches, far enough that my lips can’t reach her.
I want to growl and yank her against me, but I wait to see what her next move is instead.
“I don’t have time for this.” She’s breathless. “I have work to do today.”
“Later, then.” I brush my nose against hers. “We’ll make up for our argument later.”
“Epic mail day,” Baxter says the next morning as he sets a plastic tote brimming with boxes and letters on the table. Each day, I meticulously go through the mail before delivering it to the royals.
It’s protocol.
“I’m headed out to check the perimeter,” the other man says before walking out and shutting the door behind him.
There are several boxes in different sizes, all addressed to Ellie, that I open first. The first is addressed to her formal title. When I open it, I discover fabric swatches, glasses wrapped in paper, invitations, and other party things. I set it aside for her.