“I never said an Amish wife. That was Elle’s choice of words.”
“I guess you gave her the bull about wanting a wifey wife. Someone to make a home for you and your kids yada, yada, yada.”
“It’s not bull.” He didn’t want to spend all his life running after his woman. He wanted peace of mind, thank you very much.
“It so is,” Ronnie countered. “You might want that—or believe you want that—but what you need is Elle. You need someone who will stand her ground and won’t give in to you. Keep you on your toes and make things interesting. You need someone who is your equal and is not scared to go nose-to-nose with you.”
“She would drive me crazy. We would not be good together.”
“You kidding? You were great together. I know what this is all about; you’re terrified. She got too close to you and surprise, surprise, she didn’t want to send you packing, so you ran at the first opportunity.”
“She’s not in danger any more. She doesn’t need me.”
It had been a piss-poor idea to bring Elle to his apartment in Boston, because now he had the visual of her around his place, wearing his T-shirts, sitting on his sofa. Haunting him and making his cock hard and his heart hurt.
The cabin wasn’t better, but at least here he could be left in peace. Well, that was before his sister had gotten her hands on the GPS coordinates and had decided to pay a visit.
“So you dumped her and left her on her own?”
“I didn’t leave her on her own. I have a guy keeping an eye on her.”
One of the charred bodies had been confirmed to be Maldonado’s and he doubted that anyone in Maldonado’s organization would bother to go after Elle, but still, leaving her totally unguarded didn’t sit right with him. Her comings and goings had to be restricted and monitored, at least for some time. He was counting on the Bowens for the restricting and Simon, one of his associates, for the monitoring.
He’d been using his contacts to get a feel for the situation and it was pretty calm. Maldonado’s empire wasn’t crumbling; there had been a couple of scuffles and some guys had gotten killed, but they were just middlemen. Nico, the Russian second in command, seemed to have everything under control.
So far, Jack had refused to read the reports on Elle from Simon, the hired hand. If he started down that stalking road, he would never resurface again. He couldn’t justify to himself that level of stalkerism, no way, no how.
Besides, Simon was a very competent man Jack had worked with on several assignments. Worried that she would eat Simon alive, Jack had issued him strict instructions on how to deal with Elle, but surprisingly enough, Elle hadn’t given him much shit, ignoring his presence most of the time. It looked like all that had been needed to get her to behave was to hurt her.
“Of course, because keeping an eye on her is something you can’t do yourself, right?” Ronnie asked belligerently, taking him out of his reverie.
No, that was something he couldn’t do by himself. He was unable to be around her without getting emotionally invested. He’d proved that repeatedly during their time together, running after her and allowing her to do things she shouldn’t have been allowed to. Not to mention he missed her so fucking much he physically hurt. Seeing her would worsen this stupid juvenile state of his. And yet, all she would have to do would be to misbehave in a big way and he knew, deep inside him, he would take over from Simon and go to her. And although she must have figured that out, she hadn’t done it. She was keeping a low profile—well, as low as possible for someone like Elle.
“What would you have me do, Ronnie? Play house with her?”
“Do you have feelings for her?” his sister demanded.
“That’s beside the point. I—”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ronnie interrupted. “So, yeah, I expect my big brother to man up, act mature, and play house with the woman he has feelings for and who makes him smile like crazy. What do you have to lose?”
What did he have to lose? Not much really, just his heart, his sanity. His whole self. Small potatoes.
Elle had been right; he was being a coward, but someone had to maintain a cool head around here.
Did he have feelings for her? Fuck yeah. Had had those since the very first day he’d laid eyes on her and she’s smiled at him defiantly. Feelings were fleeting, though, not important. They could burn up the sheets, true, but what about outside the bedroom? Could he compromise on what he’d wanted all his life?
“Do you remember when I was little and you lectured me about doing the hard thing? This time you took the easy way out, so it’s my turn to call you out on your shit.”
“Leaving her was the hard thing,” he replied curtly.
He hadn’t seen Elle that quiet or still in his truck. Ever. She hadn’t fiddled with the radio or chatted. She hadn’t looked mad either; there had been a tinge of disappointment in her eyes, but her smile was firmly in place, her chin up.