her with me all the damn time. Day, night. I’ve never felt that way about a woman. Ever.
The arrival of my truck puts a damper on the make-out session, so I regretfully pull away and help Ellie inside. I tip the valet on the way to the driver’s side, then climb in and pull away from the curb.
I’m eager to get back to her place. We haven’t spent the night together for a while now, and I’m looking forward to it. I want to make love to her until neither of us can breathe, then I want to fall asleep with her in my arms, wake up with her in the same place so I can make love to her all over again.
“Thanks for dinner.”
I glance her way and grin. “My pleasure.”
As I’m driving, I hear a muted ringtone, and I glance down at Ellie’s purse. “I think that’s you.”
Ellie instantly grabs the tiny clutch, pops it open, and retrieves her phone.
“It’s the bar,” she says, but I’m not sure if she’s informing me or questioning it.
I glance her way and she meets my gaze. She looks confused, as though she doesn’t want to answer. She confirms her hesitation with her next question.
“What if there’s a problem?”
“Answer it,” I tell her. If she doesn’t, she’ll just be freaked out, anyway.
I try to give her a little privacy when she answers, but it’s not easy because of the tight quarters.
“This is Ellie.”
Since I can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, I try to focus on the road.
“Yes.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “I’m … uh … I’m not sure I understand.”
The cracking in her voice has me looking over at her, and I see her eyes are wide and she’s staring straight ahead.
“Yes, I heard you.” Her eyes dart to mine. “No, now’s probably not a good time.” Pause. “That sounds good. Yeah ... okay. Sure.”
Based on the look on her face, I feel a sense of dread come over me. I don’t know why, I don’t know what caused it, but the more I look at her, the more I know there’s a very good reason for it.
“Ellie? Is there something wrong?”
“Huh?” She sounds a little lost.
“Did something happen?”
When I come to a stop sign in her neighborhood, I briefly wait for her to talk to me.
“That was Noelle.”
Based on the way she looks, I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Was it bad news? I notice her hands are shaking, so I reach for the one closest to me. “Talk to me, babe.”
Her eyes are wide and there might be a hint of fear in them, I’m not sure.
“That was Noelle,” she repeats. “She called to let me know that I need to call … James.”
I frown at the mere mention of a man’s name.
Ellie swallows hard, her throat working as she continues to look at me. A tear catches me completely off guard, spilling from her eye. With my other hand, I reach to wipe it away.
“What’s going on?” I sound a little irrational now because she’s crying and I have no clue what I’m supposed to do.
“He called.”
I continue to stare. Asking “he who?” probably won’t get me too far based on how well this has gone already.
“He called me.” Her eyes widened. “He called the bar. And I have to call … him.” She glances down at the phone in her hand. “James.” Her eyes meet mine again. “Bianca’s dad.”
And just like that, my stomach drops. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or feel, so I release Ellie’s hand and pull past the stop sign. I need to get her home. I don’t know why, but I do.
Within minutes, we’re pulling up to her house, but she hasn’t said a word. It’s starting to freak me out, so I hop out of the truck, walk around to her side, and open her door. As though she’s physically present but mentally somewhere far, far away, she climbs out but doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing. I guide her to the front door, take her key from her purse, unlock the door, and walk her inside.
“I don’t know how Bianca found him,” Ellie mumbles, lowering herself to the couch. “I looked and looked and…”
I’m confused. Ellie is supposed to know how Bianca found him. If she monitors her Facebook, she had to have seen the post.
She did see the post, right?
Based on her expression, she didn’t know about it. And that makes me a total