Falling Hard (Colorado High Country #3)

While the kids played, Ellie told Claire about last night, finding creative ways to talk about S-E-X. Then she told Claire how afraid she’d been when she’d heard there’d been an explosion at the ski area. Claire listened and sympathized, talking Ellie down the way she’d done in the weeks and months after Dan had died.

By the time the conversation drew to a close almost an hour later, Ellie was laughing again. “You should have seen Rose’s face.”

Claire laughed, too. “I wish I had.”

When she ended the call, Ellie’s panic was gone. She read the kids a bedtime story, tucked them in, and went to pour herself a glass of wine.

She’d just pulled the cork out of the bottle when a knock came at her back door, making her jump.

Jesse.

He stood on her back deck with wet hair, his face clean shaven, the gash on his forehead hidden behind a bandage.

She opened the door. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He stomped the snow off his boots and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for putting you through that today.”

“You shouldn’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.” Then she stepped into his embrace. “Oh, Jesse.”





Chapter 13





Jesse held her, all the stresses of the day seeming to melt away. She felt fragile in his arms, sweet and soft. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” She gave a little laugh and leaned back to look up at him, a vulnerability in her eyes that tugged at him. “You’re the one who almost got blown up and had to have stitches.”

He took her face between his hands. “I know that what happened today scared you. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Her gaze searched his, a pleading look in her eyes. “Why do you have to work with explosives? Why can’t someone else do that job?”

“I’m good at it, Ellie. I’m the reason two people didn’t die today.”

“I have no right to question your life. I’m sorry.” She drew away from him, clearly still unhappy. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

He let it go. “After today, I’ll take some of that scotch you mentioned.”

She opened a cupboard and was about to scoot a stepping stool over so that she could reach the amber bottle.

“I’ve got it.” Jesse reached over the top of her head, took the bottle down from the shelf, and read the label. “Old Pulteney twenty-one. You know your scotch. This stuff is expensive. Are you sure you want me drinking it?”

“That’s what it’s for.” She handed him a tumbler, a sad smile on her lips. “It was Dan’s favorite. I hope you enjoy it.”

Jesse was touched that she would share it with him. He poured out the equivalent of two shots, capped the bottle, and put it back in the cupboard. He took a sip, the taste exploding across his tongue. “Mmm. Damn.”

They sat together on the sofa, Ellie leaning back against his chest.

“It can’t have been fun to take a shower,” she said.

It hadn’t been. The water had stung every nick and cut, but it had felt good to wash away the blood and reek of pentolite.

“I’ve dealt with worse.” He kissed her hair, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. “How was the rest of your day?”

She gave a little moan. “You don’t want to know.”

“I think I do.”

By the time she finished telling him what had happened at Food Mart, he was clenching his jaw and holding his breath in the effort not to laugh.

“Everyone in the store heard me. I wanted to die. You’re laughing.”

“No.” He coughed, choked. “Does this mean I can expect your dad to show up at my door with a shotgun?”

She craned her head to look up at him. “How could he know you’re the one?”

He smoothed the hair from her cheek. “Half the town saw us together at Knockers, remember?”

“Oh, right. God, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologize. People can gossip all they want. Actually, I find the whole thing kind of sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Yeah.” He nuzzled her ear, nipped her earlobe, and felt her shiver. “It means you were thinking of me today, just like I was thinking of you.”

She smiled at this, her eyes drifting shut. “I guess it does.”

He found the side of her throat, licked that sensitive spot just below her ear, then kissed her, his lips brushing over the flutter of her pulse.

She let her head fall to the side, the wine glass tilting in her hand.

He took the glass from her and set it down on the coffee table. “Come.”

He helped her to her feet, then scooped her into his arms.

She gave a little gasp and grabbed onto him, her arms sliding behind his neck.

He kissed her forehead. “I’m not going to drop you.”

He carried her down the dark hallway to her bedroom, then lowered her to her bed and stretched himself out above her.

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