Salvaging love, p.17
Salvaging Love, page 17
“How am I going to fix this?”
“You have to tell him how you feel,” Ruby said.
“It’s worse than you think,” Ellie said. She took the tissues Natalie offered and blew her nose.
“Worse?” Natalie said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how this scenario gets worse. Do we all need more wine?”
“Maybe,” Ellie said. “Or chocolate?”
“There’s my girl. You’re feeling better already. Jeesh. You were ghostlike all week. We were so worried about you. I’ll be right back.” Natalie ran to the kitchen and returned with dark chocolate sea salt bars and the bottle of red.
“Okay,” she said. “I think I’m prepared for worse. Hit us.”
“The reason he’s even going to New York is because he’s hosting a fundraiser he created in honor of his mother, a victim of domestic violence.” She wanted to share his whole horrible story with them, but she didn’t want to betray Jackson’s trust.
“No,” Ruby said.
“Yes. I didn’t know until he told me right before he walked out. I threw the trip, the stay at the Four Seasons, even the person he hired to help me shop for a dress—I threw it all in his face.”
“He had someone ready to help you shop?” Natalie sighed. “That man knows you well, honey.”
“I think you’re right,” Ellie said.
“Do you love him?” Ruby asked.
“God, yes,” Ellie said without hesitation. “If feeling like a truck keeps rolling over my body right now is love, then yes, I do.”
The girls laughed. “Love sure hurts like hell sometimes,” Nat said.
“But what do I do? He hasn’t called or texted. I tried to call him today and he won’t answer my calls. I even talked about Chewie who I think might miss Jackson more than I do if that’s possible. It feels unfixable, like he won’t forgive me.” She waved her hand in front of her eyes when more tears threatened. Maybe saving up tears for ten years hadn’t been the brightest idea.
“Gage was right. Jackson’s not stupid, but he is capable of being hurt. Maybe he’s licking his wounds. Or maybe he’s giving you time. You could do something big, something brave, something that shows him how much you love him.”
“Something big?”
“New York,” Ruby and Nat said together.
“Me? Go to New York?” she asked but already knew that was what she needed to do. “But how? My clinic, my patients… I—and all my clothes are at Jackson’s house… I don’t have a dress.”
“Leave the clothes issue to me,” Ruby said.
“I’ll deal with the clinic. I’ll cancel everything serious. We’ll tell them it’s an emergency and between Matt, Ruby and me, we can handle everything else,” Nat said. She pulled her laptop over. “Now, let’s get you a flight to New York City.”
If anyone could handle clothes, it was Ruby. And Natalie could run the clinic alone. Ellie put her trust in her friends and, for the first time since Jackson had brought up New York, drifted off into a deep sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jackson rested on the couch in his hotel suite watching the basketball game. The Knicks were up by twelve. His team was winning. And he couldn’t give a shit. The sound was off as were all the lights. Bourbon sat untouched in his glass. He was listening to Ellie’s message. She’d called on Tuesday. He hadn’t answered because he was hurt, too fucking stubborn and scared, but now he wished he’d picked up. He wished he’d never walked out of her clinic that night. The fuming haze of her trying to cut him out of her life had made him stupid. Too stupid to realize she wasn’t pushing him away because she didn’t want to be with him, but because something had her so freaked out she’d drawn inward to protect herself. And he’d let her get away with it.
Now he’d had almost a week to be pissed. Pissed at himself, because instead of digging deep enough to help her annihilate her demons, like he’d promised, he’d lashed out and abandoned her. Goddamned fucking pride. Ellie was not the kind of woman he would let his pride get in the way of caring for. And he’d done exactly that. Acted like a wounded animal and escaped.
His phone had been off most of yesterday on the flight to New York and today while he’d worked with the event coordinator to help finalize everything. He’d waited until now, in the dark, to torture himself with her voice. Her soft, fucking broken voice, begging him to call her back, to talk to her. And if he didn’t ever want to talk to her again, which she said she’d understand, did he at least want Chewie?
Fuck! He did not want her to fucking understand him not wanting to talk to her again. He wanted her to fight for him, but he hadn’t given her a chance. And yes, goddammit, he wanted that mutt. He wanted everything. He should have ignored her bullshit about not wanting to be with him. He should have dragged her to New York with him, stripped them both naked and made love to her enough until she fucking understood how much he needed her, how devastated he was without her. That was what he fucking wanted her to understand.
God! He sat up and dragged his hands through his hair. He sounded like a Neanderthal. But he was going crazy without her, and there wasn’t a thing he could do until he flew home. Tonight, when he’d finally listened and tried to call her back, her phone had gone right to voicemail. He switched off the game, got up to toss his bourbon down the drain, when he heard a knock at his door.
“What the fuck?” he said as he opened the door. And his heart stopped. For a second everything stopped. She stood there more beautiful than he’d ever seen her in jeans and an oversized sweater. Her curls danced all over the place. She gripped a suitcase handle like it was her lifeline and she looked vulnerable and scared.
“I…I wanted… Jackson—”
“Jesus Christ, Ellie,” he said and he took a step, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, crushing her to his body, and buried his head in her hair. “Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ.”
“Jackson. I’m so sorry for everything.” She clung to him as tightly as he clung to her.
“Shhh,” he said, letting the door slam. He carried her into the bedroom, climbed onto the bed with her, tangled them together and kissed her. In that moment he vowed never to walk away from her again.
“Jackson, I am so sorry.” Her voice cut out as the tears came.
“Babe…” He brushed the first tear away.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me, to listen to me. I was afraid you didn’t want me anymore after how horrible I was. I’m so sorry, Jackson.”
He kissed one eye then paid sweet attention to the other. “I know. Me too.” He kissed her forehead and rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks. “Ellie, look at me.” She opened her eyes. “I fucked up. I walked out on you. I knew something wasn’t right and I should have stayed.”
“I pushed you away,” she said and her voice broke. “I think I had another massive panic attack and I shut down. I was scared to come to New York.”
He braced because pain and fear filled her face. He’d fucked up worse than he thought. “What are you afraid of, El? Please tell me.”
“I will. I want to tell you everything, Jackson. You know a little bit about my upbringing. It’s hard to talk about. All these feelings of shame surge up in my throat.” She buried her head in his chest. And her stomach grumbled loud enough for the entire state to hear.
Jackson chuckled. “I want to hear everything about you, I promise, and this is not me letting you get out of explaining. But for now, I think I should take care of my girl, feed her, let her sleep and spoil her since she dropped everything and flew across the country to surprise me. No one has ever done anything like that for me.”
He kissed her. “Let’s order room service. Then we’ll take a bath.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. A beautiful flush filled her face. “We’ll spend the rest of the time naked in bed taking care of each other.” He kissed her again, long and deep, and she relaxed under his warmth.
“That sounds awesome,” she said, the joy back in her voice and on her face.
* * * *
“My first memory of my mother is of her dragging me across the room and screaming that I ruined her life.”
Holy fuck! “Babe,” Jackson said and pulled her close in the enormous bathtub big enough for a party. They’d shared a pizza and cake, and although the cake was nowhere near as good as Ellie’s, she’d eaten like a starved person. Now they were soaking in the tub while he washed her hair. They were relaxed and warm, but her statement jolted him.
“I spent so long forcing myself to forget my past. Nat and Ruby said that wasn’t healthy, that it had to start coming up at some point. I think that’s what happened whenever you asked about myself, little cracks started to form. And when you invited me to New York—this is where I grew up, and as far as I know, she still lives here—everything, as Ruby said, erupted, and I shut down.”
“El, gorgeous.” He breathed into her neck. “I am so sorry.”
“No.” She squeezed his arms. “I should have told you. I know you would never hurt me. I trust you. I… Something happened in my brain, like it sent a message screaming run. Natalie and Ruby helped me.” She giggled. “Or, rather, they staged an intervention and forced me to talk about it. Jackson, I’ve never told a soul about my mother before.”
“Here,” he said, stood and set her out of the tub. He got out and wrapped one of the warm bath sheets around her. “Let’s climb into bed where you can tell me everything.” She gave him a small smile, which didn’t hide the dark circles around her normally bright eyes. She was fucking exhausted.
He picked her up and she didn’t even fight him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head into his chest. When he got to the bed, he unwrapped the towel and gently pushed her onto the soft mattress. He pulled the covers over her. “I’ll be right back.”
By the time he got his boxers on, pushed the room service cart out into the hall and switched all the lights back off, Ellie was sound asleep.
Chapter Thirty
“Natalie.”
“Ellie? You okay? Why are you whispering?”
Ellie stood in the bathroom, one of the most gorgeous she’d ever seen. Huge gleaming marble floors, an enormous shower, a sunken whirlpool bath she and Jackson had enjoyed last night and a gold and crystal chandelier that Ellie would not be surprised to find out was made of real gold and real diamonds. The large window behind her reflected the skyline of NYC in her mirror. Everything shimmered. And she was starting to freak out again. Jackson was downstairs and had said he’d be back for her in fifteen minutes, but she needed help pronto.
“Ellie? Talk to me. Where are you? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your gala?”
“The Presidential Suite.” She could barely get the words out. When she’d arrived last night, she’d been more exhausted than stunned. Jackson had taken such good care of her. She’d passed out before she could tell him everything. This morning he’d woken her with his tongue, drifting lazy circles on her inner thighs, and all talk of traumas had flown out of the window.
They’d napped until noon and made love again, after which he’d sent her off to the spa. All of this should have been amazing, and she should have loved it. What normal woman wouldn’t? To be wined and dined in one of the world’s most expensive hotels? But her nerves kept resurfacing.
“Is Jackson okay? Did he welcome you the way I predicted with open arms and hot body?”
“Yes,” Ellie said.
“Honey, you’re still whispering, and you’re kinda freaking me out. Take a deep breath and explain. You can’t do what, the Presidential Suite? The gala?”
Yes! She wanted to scream, but she knew, even as her heart raced, that that screaming would sound ridiculous and irrational. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on Natalie and her own reflection in the mirror. “My dress. I need help.”
“Okkkkaaayyy, is Jackson there?”
“Not yet. He’s downstairs.”
“So why are we whispering?” Now Natalie was whispering too, which knocked Ellie out of her weird, nervous, haunted memory place.
“I’m wearing the dress. You know, the sparkly one?”
“Yes, honey, I know. The one that was made for you, the one you were too chicken to buy, but, thank all the goddesses, was still at Nordstrom when Ruby went back to speed-shop for you.”
“I’m not sure I can pull it off. I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you can. You can do this. You got on a plane and flew across the country to be with your man. Now, do you still want to be with him?”
“Yes?” Ellie answered.
“All right. Do you want to tell me what’s really going on and why you’re hiding in the bathroom whispering about your dress, which I’m certain Mr. Kincaid will die a happy death when he sees you in?”
“I don’t recognize myself.”
“Ellie, I saw you in that dress when you tried it on. Now, with a hint of makeup, your hair done and those killer shoes, I bet you look like a million bucks. You deserve to feel beautiful, honey. That in no way means you are anything like that horrible woman who shall not be named. Are you having a panic attack?”
“No.” Ellie breathed. She wasn’t tingly or over-sweating. “I think I’m normal nervous. I’ve never been this pretty before.”
“You have. You are beautiful and sparkly every day. It’s your kind heart that makes you sparkle, honey. The dress is an accessory to your beauty.”
“Ellie, babe, you ready?” Jackson knocked on the bathroom door.
“Honey, that man adores you. Let him see how gorgeous you look.”
Ellie gave her best friend an air kiss through the phone. “Okay. Love you, Nat.”
“Love you too. I’m always here for you, but so is Jackson. And he is literally right there. Let him in. Let him in all the way,” she said and hung up.
“El?” Jackson said.
“Yeah.”
“You ready?” Was she ready to let him in all the way? She loved him. She trusted him. She wanted to spend her life with him. Difficult as it was, she had to face her nightmares. He’d taken such care with her last night and today, insisting that he wanted her to relax and enjoy him spoiling her and that they had plenty of time to exorcise her demons.
“El, been looking forward to introducing you tonight. Need you, babe. You okay?”
Fuck! Now she was starting to swear like Jackson. He always said just the right thing. She needed him too and she wanted to be brave and stand by his side tonight during this important event for him. She couldn’t deny him this and she didn’t want to. She was a tiny bit nervous, but a lot excited. And she knew Jackson would hold her hand and take care of her. “Take a deep breath, El. You can do this,” she said into the mirror.
He’d created this gala and auction to support victims of domestic violence five years ago. One more reason why she loved him. One more thing that made his heart huge. Taking one more deep breath, she opened the door. And anything she was about to say got lost in her throat at one glimpse of Jackson Kincaid in a tuxedo. Then she met his gaze and saw pure lust in his darkened eyes when he raked his gaze up and down her body.
“Jesus,” he said, then let out a low whistle. “You could knock a man over with your beauty, babe.” Ellie was a warrior goddess painted in some gold, silver and pink fabric that molded her perfect body and accentuated her curves like it had been made for her. Stiletto sandals, held on with small straps and made from shimmery stone in shades of silver, gave her several inches. Her curls were up on top of her head with a few hanging down to tease her neck, to tease him. He stepped right into her and wrapped one arm around her back where he touched her satiny skin.
“Wait,” he said and turned her around. He placed his hands on her hips. “Where the fuck is the back to this dress?”
“Uhm,” Ellie said.
He met her eyes in the mirror and gently pressed her hips against the counter. “You okay, El? You look like a princess waiting for her prince.” Her wide eyes darkened as he pressed his body up against hers and nipped her ear. He snaked his arm around to her front and caressed her breast, feeling her nipple harden through the fabric. “So beautiful.” He raised the hem of her dress and toyed with her ass. “So soft,” he whispered, rubbing his nose against her neck then kissing her there.
Ellie whimpered and leaned her head to the side to expose more of her neck.
“Not sure I can let you go to the gala dressed like this.” He moved his hands over her ass and pulled down her thong.
“Oh?” There was that breathy moan he loved.
“Have to fuck you first.” He sounded possessive. “Want me to fuck you, El, in this dress? Want me to make you mine?” He kicked her legs apart and pushed her body over the counter with one hand and found her wet core with his other. So fucking wet.
“Yes,” she said. “Please, Jackson.”
“I’m clean, babe. Want to take you bare. You good with that?” he asked.
“Yes, Jackson, please hur—”
He had his zipper down and thrust in before she could finish begging.
“This,” he said, caressing her back. “This body.” He gripped her hips and began a furious pace in and out. “This is all for me.”
“Yes, honey, yes.”
“Not letting you go again.”
“No, Jackson.”
He reached around and teased her clit. “Want you to come on my cock.”
“Yes,” she screamed, and she pulsed around him, losing all control.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ellie was relaxed, that was for sure. She also had a flush on her neck from Jackson’s hands and mouth. God, that man could kiss. Slow and soft. Hard and deep. Every way he kissed her seemed like the most amazing moment ever. After he’d helped her clean up, he’d held her hand the entire way down in the elevator and into the ballroom. Even when they entered, he didn’t let her go. Jackson knew what she needed. The amazing bathroom sex had taken over any worries flitting through her mind, and now he hadn’t left her side. She squeezed his hand while he led them to the bar.
