wrong, and she wasn’t going to make this about her.
Tonight was about Brett and giving him a happy send-off.
Without her purse, she didn’t have much to work with, but at least she was able to clean the dark rivers of mascara off her face and ease a little of the puffiness with some cold water. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do. Inhaling, she closed her eyes and opened the door. She could do this.
“Ell.”
With her breath frozen somewhere in the middle of her lungs, it took her a second to actually open her eyes, partly because she was afraid she’d imagined his voice, and partly because she was afraid she hadn’t.
She hadn’t. He was standing right there, leaning against the wall, his face so serious, his eyes so stormy.
“Oh, hey,” she managed. “Great dinner, eh? Jayne sure knows how to—”
“Don’t.” He pushed off the wall but didn’t come any closer. “I’ve got no explanation for why I didn’t call you back, other than I was feeling really useless and stupid and I still don’t know what I’m doing. I’m an asshole, and I’m sorry.”
Oh no, she wouldn’t smile. She wouldn’t. It would hurt too much.
Damn it.
“And if you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’ll tell me to piss off, but I’m really hoping you’ll give me a minute here.”
“Only one?” she said, forcing that damn smile as bright as she possibly could. “After everything you’ve done for me, Poncherello, I could probably be persuaded to give you two or three.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but it wasn’t a smile. That was okay, though, because she was smiling big enough for the both of them.
“I, uh, I don’t know what happened between us,” he said slowly. “It was easier when the case was going on because I could use that as an excuse to not think about it, but now I can’t stop thinking about it, and I don’t…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I only know what I want to do, and I can’t leave here tomorrow without you knowing the truth.”
“And what is the truth?” she asked, wishing she could force a little more strength into her voice. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
Without a sound, he closed the distance between them, took her face in his hands, and kissed her, soft, tender, and slow until the only breath she could catch had his name on it. She curled her fingers around his neck and up into his short hair, loving the way he felt, loving the way she felt, and loving the way they felt together.
On a long, low growl, he took the kiss deeper, longer, until hunger built to an urgent, frantic frenzy. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get close enough to him, not even when he slipped his hand around her and eased her closer, tighter, until the full length of her was pressed against him.
There. Right there, that’s where she could spend the rest of her life: wrapped up in him, with the heat of his skin under her fingers, the taste of him on her lips, and the feel of him pressed against her so hard, as desperate for her as she was for him.
A monsoon of emotions crashed through her, from the tiny part of her brain that still seemed to be working, down to the tips of her toes in those ridiculously high green heels, and with it came another tear—surely the only one she had left.
She didn’t know how long they were there; all she knew was that it ended far too soon.
He hadn’t released her yet, just rested his forehead against her shoulder and breathed, ragged and harsh. There was no way Ellie was about to let go of him, not yet. Not when she could still touch him, not when he pressed a body-melting soft kiss against the sensitive spot on her neck, right near her collarbone, and no way was she letting him go when he pushed her up against the wall and groaned.
“Please don’t make me finish this here in Jayne’s hallway.”
Now was not the time to be giggling, but she couldn’t help it; it just kept bubbling out of her.
“Not funny, Ell,” he muttered, though even as he said it she could feel his lips curling against her neck. “I don’t even think I’m going to make it out to the truck.”
He did, but he made Ellie drive.
“I can’t believe we’re just going to