It was Jesse who broke the kiss, and the look in his eyes before he dropped his focus to the floor nearly gutted her.
Regret?
But exactly which part of all of this did he regret?
“Just leave me alone. Please.” Ella hurried down one of the horse trails and away from the party as quickly as possible, freezing even though she’d swapped her beautiful wedding gown for a simple, ankle-length, white satin dress with long sleeves after her first dance with Jesse.
“Ella Mae, damn it. Would you stop running from me!” Jesse called out, catching up to her with quick strides even though he didn’t need to run to close the distance between them. “It’s not safe to be roaming the ranch right now. You’re acting crazy.”
“I’ve been roaming this property since I was a kid,” she yelled without looking back to check how close he was. The tree line was on approach, and she wasn’t that out of her mind to go into the woods at night, so she’d have to stop and face him soon. “And you have security here. I’m fine.”
“We don’t have enough people to manage the perimeter of the entire ranch. Now stop right now, or—”
“Or what?” She stopped and abruptly swiveled around, her labored breathing and quick movements warming her up at least. Her frustration with this man dialed up her temperature a few degrees as well.
Jesse halted six or so feet away, hands in the air as though trying to calm a startled horse from bolting. “It’s too dangerous for you to be away from the team.” His gaze darted to the woods just behind her, then he swept his attention around them, obviously checking for something. Or someone. “You need to go back to the well-lit party.”
“Well-armed, you mean.”
“You’ll also freeze to death out here.” He removed his jacket and started her way, but her gaze immediately went to the weapon holstered at his hip.
“You wore a gun to our wedding?” She wasn’t sure why she was so shocked. There was a bad guy who might know her name, after all.
“Of course I did. Now put this on, and let’s go.” He draped the jacket over her shoulders, and she gave in to its warmth even though she wanted to be stubborn and protest. The smell that was uniquely Jesse, along with his cologne, dominated her senses when she took in a deep breath.
“And I’m not the crazy one, by the way,” she said. “You certainly looked borderline insane when I danced with Henry though.”
“You should have said no when he asked,” Jesse barked out.
“Say no to the man who is giving me a dream opportunity?” She arched a brow in challenge. “‘Thanks, but I can’t. My fake husband doesn’t want me enough for himself but also doesn’t like to share.’”
“You and that sassy mouth. Do you have any idea how close I came to . . .” He let the threat go. “My patience when it comes to you around other men isn’t something I suggest you test.” His clipped tone rang out like a shot in the air since they were a good distance away from the sounds of music and voices at the party.
Pissed at him for overselling his lovey-dovey performance all evening, she said, “Surprised Brian’s still alive, then. You said in my studio you would’ve killed him if he’d hurt me, but maybe you would’ve used any old excuse to do it.”
Jesse inched closer and brought his mouth to her ear as if worried the owls or night critters would overhear. “You’re right,” he seethed. “Would you like to know how many times Brian came close to dying?” He cupped her arm over the jacket. “But I didn’t want to hurt you by killing him, so he’s still breathing.”
“You’re not a cold-blooded killer.” She didn’t buy whatever story he was trying to sell. Another attempt to push her away, more like it. “I didn’t love Brian, and you know that. Didn’t wish death upon him either.”
He released her and stepped back but remained quiet.
“So, thank you for not killing him,” she added in case she was wrong, and Jesse hadn’t been bluffing about wanting to murder Brian. “Rory would hate to visit her brother in jail. And I would—”
“You’d what?” he cut her off, his anger at her for “putting herself in danger” by taking off still evident. If it weren’t for the nearby lights along the trail, she’d be unable to see his broody expression.
“Forget it,” she bit out. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be angry. There was a reason I took off.” He’d distracted her with his alpha behavior, and she hated that it turned her on. “You have been screwing with my head all night. All flipping night. That’s why I needed to leave. To have a second alone before I clocked you clean across the jaw.”
“How exactly have I been screwing with your head, darling?” He scoffed as if she were the crazy one. His focus kept moving around, clearly nervous about them being so far from the party out in the dark.
Ella looked toward the woods, her shoulders dropping. “We shouldn’t be here,” she caved when the rational side of her brain took over. “But you’re why I’m acting irrationally. Not level-headed.” He went to her side and reached for her elbow, but she shifted from his reach. “The vows. The songs you selected. The way you’ve been putting on a show for the last two hours in front of the guests.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she knew she needed to get the cowboy boots she’d swapped her heels for to move, but she was stuck in place. Irrational again. “Are you a hitman or an actor? Because you seem to have talents I’ve been unaware of my entire life.”
Those sweet and kind vows had been a knife to her heart. And then Chase Rice’s “Eyes on You,” followed by Brett Young’s “In Case You Didn’t Know” for his song choices for their first two dances just twisted the blade even deeper.
“I hate you for this,” she cried.
Jesse’s mouth fell open, and his attention swung back to her. “This?” He held up his left hand and pointed at the wedding ring. “This was your idea. I sure as hell didn’t want to do it. If I had my way, you’d be locked up somewhere safe.” He waved a hand toward the woods. “Not out in the open in danger. Not going to Paris as my wife.”
“Fake wife,” she rasped the reminder, more for herself than for him. “And you and I both know I’m in danger whether we’re married or not, but if this ‘wedding’ lures the bastard out sooner rather than later, then we can part ways that much faster, which seems to be your preference.”
She threw a hand in the air and stomped closer, his jacket almost falling from her shoulders. Here they were, out in the darkness, him in his tux and her in a fitted white dress parading around as Mr. and Mrs. McAdams. And she was seconds away from losing her mind.
She slapped a palm to his chest, surprised to find his heartbeat out of control. “You’re the one always running from me. You ran off to the Army. Then you kept re-enlisting. Then you ran to the CIA. And now Falcon. Always going every which way but to me.” Tears glided down her cheeks. “And the only crazy thing about me is that I keep thinking things will change. That you’ll finally stop running. Or, at least, you’ll run toward me for once.”