All I Want is You (Hearts on Fire Book 1) (5 page)

In the simple comfort of her apartment, Ellie rips a fourth page out of her notebook and scrunches it into a ball.  This one hits the edge of the trash can, and drops in, perhaps the only success of the day so far.  

She leafs through the other pages, desperate for inspiration.  She sees the same old paragraphs, written a dozen times, without new information, scribbled over scratched out drafts, words erased and rewritten, over and again.  

But today is going to be different.
 
I’m going to get this thing written.  
Today is going to be the day, she told Doctor Bowman.  Today.

...Three days later, she’s two days past her deadline, exhausted from her effort, still fretting over the fact that she’s in possession of a gun, and no closer to the truth in either regard.  
The City Lit
hasn’t even called to find out what’s going on and she’s been too nervous to call them.  
Not F-ing good
.
 

Worse, she hasn’t heard a thing from Jake since he left.  He gave her the pleasure of an orgasm, but not a number to reach him.  
Go figure.

“I’ll probably never hear from him again,” Ellie says to Naomi.

“Oh yeah, he was using you so he could finger you to orgasm and then leave,” Naomi’s sarcasm barrels through the other end of the line.  “Why don’t you come out with Tanner and me Saturday night?” she asks in a friendlier tone.  “He says he’s got something special planned.”

“I’m not sure I’m up for it.  Besides, how well do you actually know this guy?  ‘Something special’ sounds serious.  Maybe you ought to be alone with him for that.”

“We’ve been alone every night this week.  Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Ellie thinks of Jake, but knows he’s out of town.  Will he be back by Saturday?  Will she even see his devastatingly handsome face, his ravishing body again?  Even if she did, she’d have to have the conversation she’s been dreading since he left.  She still hasn’t figured out how any respectable man could do that to her.  “I don’t know… I’ll think about it.  I’ve got stuff to do.”

“What are you talking about?  You don’t have any stuff to do... on a
Saturday
night.  Is this about Jake?”

“No, it’s...  I just have to do some things, like make some kind of progress on my story, or there’s going to be no story….”

“Alright, whatever.  I’m calling you tomorrow and you better be in a better mood.  This is crazy.  I’ve never seen you like
this.”

“Yeah, well...” Ellie eyes the shiny barrel of the gun through the open duffel bag.  “I’ll talk to you.”

“
God,
” Naomi whines, “love is the worst of the drugs….”  She hangs up.

A minute later, Ellie hasn’t moved.  

Her phone rings— a number she doesn’t recognize.  

She lets it ring, until it doesn’t.  But then it rings again.  Same number.

She looks away, but then looks back, as if she’s suddenly had a moment of clarity.

“I’ve missed you like crazy,” the deep, husky voice says as she answers.

Ellie pauses, and doesn’t respond.  She’s not disarmed.  Instead, she can feel the tension building in her neck and shoulders as she tries to gather the right words.

“Ell, you there?”

“What the fuck, JAKE?” she finally blurts out.

Jake swallows hard.  “You know, I’ve thought about all the ways I could make you scream my name,” he pauses, “but honestly,
that
wasn’t one of them.”

Ellie scoffs at his joke.  “You just drop a gun in my lap and say ‘so long’ and I’m supposed to be all like okay, alright, everything’s just fucking fantastic.”

“I asked for your trust.” Jake says in a perturbed tone.

“I don’t know if you deserve it.  At first I was surprised, shocked when I saw it, but I wasn't angry.  But now I've had a few days to simmer and you haven’t even called to explain.  And by the way, the police just so happened to want to know what I was doing last Saturday night.”  Ellie remembers that they used the name Knox, but decides to wait on that line of questioning, considering the topic at hand.

"Trust is believing in someone, even when you think you shouldn’t,” Jake says calmly.

Ellie takes a deep breath. "Trust is giving someone the respect they deserve and not throwing a gun in their face.”

Jake sighs.  "Fair enough.  Perhaps it
was
too soon," he admits.  

Ellie is incredulous.  “I don’t believe there ever is a good time, if we're being honest.”

“Okay, you’re right.  Let me make it up to you."

Ellie pauses, not sure what to think. She's never been in this type of situation before. She's not sure she
wants
to be in this type of situation now.  You don't just get over something like this.  "I don't know Jake, it's not that easy.  What am I supposed to do?  Are you even going to tell me why you gave it to me in the first place?  It doesn’t look good you know.”

“I will, but for now let’s just start over.”

“How can we possibly do that?”  

“Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and tell me what you're wearing.”

Ellie contemplates the nerve this man must have, how he could possibly say such a thing, at such a moment as this?  But her body betrays those thoughts.  She bites her bottom lip too hard, causing her to grunt.  

“Are you okay?” Jake asks.

“Your persistence is incredible."

“How else would I get what I want?”

"You can't
always
get what you want,” Ellie tests him.

“Oh yes.
I can
,” he says firmly.  “Now tell me what you're wearing.”

Ellie hesitates another moment.  She feels like she’s standing on a ledge… and he’s asking her to jump.  And the problem is, she really wants to, however long the fall might be.  Completely at odds with herself, she puts her hand on her forehead, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.  “A pair of old jeans and a T-shirt.”

“Good…” his voice seems even deeper.  “Now take them off.  Your shirt first, then your pants.”  

“Are you alone?” she asks.

“Just myself and my erection,” he pauses a moment. “Hoping no one sees either right now.”

God.  That image is so hot.  
She slips one arm out of her shirt, then the other, then pulls it over her head.  She unbuttons her pants.  “Now you.”

“Oh, no,” he says. “I want this to last.”

Ellie laughs.  “Are you having some sort of problem I might want to be aware of?”

“Certainly not,” her words surprise him.  “I’ll go all night if that’s the way you like it.”

“Before I wasn’t sure, but now I know you’re full of shit,” Ellie jokes.

“Your clothes,” he responds undeterred, “I need a status update.”

“They’re off, for your information, and now,” she breathes out.  “I really want to touch your soft skin, lie next to you right here.”  Ellie surprises herself with the suggestion— her cheeks are warm, but somehow the distance between them makes this conversation possible.

“Then perhaps I should come in.”

What?  No way.  
Ellie jumps from her bed, wraps herself in her comforter and makes her way to her door.  Her face feels like it's on fire.  

She looks through the tiny peephole and sees Jake, sure as hell, standing there in front of her door, a bouquet of fresh flowers and two brown paper grocery bags in one hand, his phone in the other, those beautiful emerald eyes staring right back at her.

***

“We're not
that
close yet,” Ellie says, still buttoning up her shirt.

“We're closer than you think,” Jake watches her fidget and smiles at her.  “What would you have done if I just walked in?”

"You wouldn't dare,” she says, unable to take her eyes off the bulge in his pants.

“The thought may have occurred to me,” Jake says.

"You still wouldn't have done it," Ellie glances up at his eyes as if to make sure.

"The door was unlocked and these groceries were starting to get kind of heavy," Jake smiles.

"I guess you could come in and put them down now, then," Ellie finally says.

“I promise,” Jake smirks, “from here on out, so you can be sure it’s me, I’ll always knock in threes.”  Jake walks into her kitchen and slides the bags onto the counter.  “You didn’t have plans?"

Ellie nods.  "They’re gorgeous," she says as she takes the flowers from his extended hand.

Jake pulls a bottle of white wine from one of the grocery bags.  “I hope you like Long Island bay scallops.  They're fresh out of the Peconic this morning.”

He can cook too!  
"And what if I don’t?" Ellie smirks.

Jake stops moving and turns to face her.  "Then I'll put this Bordeaux Sauvignon back and start over with a selection from the other bag.”

“The Bordeaux will certainly do," Ellie fakes it.  She laughs as she wrestles it from his hand.  She's never even had a Bordeaux.  That she knows of.  “I may need some direction with the scallops however.”

“You worry too much," Jake reaches into the bag.  "I know just what to do with these."

Ellie watches as Jake removes the rest of the contents from the bag.  Every one of his movements is fluid, from the way he reaches over and into the top of the bag, to the tossing of the garlic and pea shoots, to the way he flips the scallops in the pan.  
The man is a walking model of perfection.

The wine is delicious.  And Ellie finishes a first glass before they even sit down at the table.  She watches Jake eat, the way his lips press against the glass as he drinks.  She imagines those lips pressed against her— her tender middle— in the same way.  The thought makes her ache inside.  She was already aroused from their conversation on the phone earlier and now just sitting in his presence, just watching him is about to put her over the edge.  She's had fantasies before, but this one is living and breathing, three feet across the table from her.

“I knew I could trust you,” he says.

“How exactly did you know that?” Ellie pokes her fork into her mixed salad.

“Because you have guns in your past.”

Ellie’s fork stops.  Her belly rumbles.  
My past?  
“That didn’t stop me from freaking out,” she says.  “I mean, what were you thinking?”  She inspects his face for answers.

“I simply believed in you,” Jake says confidently.  “I just knew you’d know what to do, more than anyone else.  More wine?”    

Yeah, if I want to make myself even more vulnerable than I already am.
“Yes, please.”

“It was Charlotte,” he continues.  “I'm trying real hard not to let anything bad happen to her,” he takes a drink himself.  “But she's sure as hell not making it very easy on me.”

“Why do you care so much for her?”  Ellie regrets the question immediately. “I mean, have you guys been friends for a long time or something?”

“She and Tan go way back, but if I'm honest with myself, I've never really liked her.  She's always flying way too close to the sun.  Amazing she hasn’t burned up already.”

“Then why are you so bent on helping her?”

Jake sighs.  “Remember I told you about my promise?” He looks at Ellie for her reaction.

“Yeah.  Tan, right?” she nods.

“That's part of it.  He really cares about her.”

“I didn't realize that… I guess I wouldn't though, since I don't know all you guys very well yet.”

“She'll be away for a while now.  After she recovers here for another day, she's headed to Sedona.  They have a treatment center for people like Charlotte who’ve struggled longer than most and still managed to stay alive.”

“How do you think she’ll do?”

“It’s not her first rehab,” he says.  “I’m really hoping for a better outcome this time.”

As Ellie finishes her second glass of wine, she's ready to change the subject.  Though she does feel a tinge of sadness for Charlotte, she'd rather be talking about how perfectly his shirt fits his broad shoulders or the way his jeans yield to the sexy curves of his backside.

“Anyway,” Jake says, “let’s talk about something else.  Something a little bit more uplifting.  “Maybe you could tell me about your family,” Jake looks at her with a questioning expression.

She can feel her desires slowly deflating.  “I’m not sure how uplifting that would be,” she sighs.  

“You heard my story.  Tell me something about yours.”

Not exactly, but okay.  
Ellie leans back in her chair and folds her arms over her chest.  
  
“I’ve lived with my grandmother since I was five.  Wasn’t exactly a normal upbringing— she paid more attention to the Doctor and a Judge on daytime TV than she ever did to me.  I don’t think she knew I was even gone, out in the neighborhood, most of the time.  I guess in a way it kind of made me tough, self-reliant.  But it kind of hurt too, not having any kind of normal childhood, especially after….”