Game of Love (The Remingtons, Book One: Love in Bloom Series)

Chapter Nine, Game of Love

Chapter Nine

ELLIE'S PHONE ALARM sounded at eight in the morning, startling her. She scrambled to pull her cell phone from her pocket and turn it off. Dex mumbled something and tightened his grip around her waist. Shit. What was I thinking? How could I let us get close again? And why do I want to crawl right back into your arms? She felt as if she'd slept for two days, even though she'd had only a few hours' sleep, and she knew it was because she was with Dex. She peeled herself from his grip and stepped from the couch. He rolled over and she caught sight of his formidable erection. What was it with New York men and erections? Unlike the reaction she'd had the night before with the drunken stranger, she felt a thrill run through her.

The last time she'd slept beside Dex, she'd asked him if he'd love her forever, no matter where they were or who they were with. She'd thought she meant love her like a friend, but she'd realized as the word left her mouth that she hadn't meant like a friend at all. Without hesitation, he'd smiled with that cockeyed, sexy grin of his and responded, You can always be sure of me. Always. He'd leaned over and kissed her then. A heart-stopping, toe-curling kiss that had scared the shit out of her. She'd felt his arousal against her belly, but he hadn't made a move beyond the kiss, and she'd been too scared to. Dex had been her best friend, and she loved him. God, how I loved you. I had no choice but to leave you.

Ellie surveyed the living room. It looked different with the sunlight streaming across the hardwood and the fright of the evening not hovering around her. She saw more of Dex in the room. The leather couch was distressed. It wasn't dark brown but a caramel color with low, thick wooden feet that gave it a homey, broken-in appearance. There were two large television screens and chunky wooden furniture with an enormous computer monitor on the top. She smiled as her eyes danced over stacks of gaming and computer magazines and piles of books.

She warmed at the sight of pictures of his family that were haphazardly placed around the room. She looked over the family photo that sat atop the marble mantel. His father's stern eyes and stoic expression, above his starched white collar, contrasted sharply with his mother's smiling eyes and long gray hair, which flowed wildly over the shoulders of her colorful bohemian blouse. She remembered each of his brothers, even though she'd only met Jack once or twice. They could have been cloned, their handsome faces and dark hair were so similar. But their eyes told different stories. His mother, Joanie, his brothers Kurt and Rush and his sister, Siena, had vibrant blue eyes, while the others' blue eyes were as dark as night. A smaller photo of Dex and Siena when they were little was placed beside a larger photo of Jack, Sage, and Dex. In it, Dex looked to be about thirteen years old. She ran her finger along his lanky body, all elbows and knees at that age. She glanced back at him snoozing on the couch, broad chested and rippled with strength. His tattoos made him look even manlier than he had four years ago. Oh yes, he had grown into a fine specimen of a man.

She went into the foyer and retrieved her suitcase, then wound her way down the hall looking for a bathroom. She passed the closed door where Regina was sleeping and wandered into Dex's bedroom. The bed was unmade, and the room carried a chill. She touched his dresser, a bold, manly wooden piece of furniture with thick legs and solid wooden handles. The top of the dresser was littered with gaming magazines and drawings. A small frame caught her eye, and she picked it up. She should feel as though she was snooping, but with Dex, she never felt that way. She'd come in and out of his bedroom so many nights that it had felt like it was hers as well. That was stupid, and she knew it, and she'd never been in this bedroom. So why did she still feel as close to him?

Her hand shook a little as she studied the photograph of the two of them. She remembered the day the picture was taken. I remember almost every day we've ever spent together. She ran her finger over his image, shocked that he'd not only kept it, but framed it and had it on his dresser. He must think about me as much as I think about him. Along with the realization came a stab of guilt, which she tucked away, focusing instead on the photograph. Dex had been seventeen and she was sixteen. It was June, just before the end of the school year. Dex had needed a haircut. She remembered teasing him about it. His hair fell over his eyes and he wore no shirt. She was pressed against his chest. I was always pressed against his chest. A stranger would never know who was behind that mop of dark hair that his hand was buried in. She could still feel his heart beating against hers, his hand covering her lower back, the other cupping the back of her head, and the way his embrace had felt like he was claiming her as his own.

"REMEMBER THAT DAY?" Dex leaned against his bedroom doorframe.

Ellie started and put the photograph she was holding back on his dresser. "Dex, I'm so sorry. I was looking for a bathroom, and I..."

He smiled and picked up the picture. "It's my favorite. Do you remember taking it?"

She nodded, and he wondered if she felt the same longing for that time as he felt when he looked at it. The picture had been taken two weeks before she'd been sent away. Siena had just gotten a camera and was always taking pictures. Ellie hated getting her picture taken. She'd had on a halter top. Dex remembered thinking how pretty she was and that she never wore shirts like that. She'd turned away, and he'd wrapped her in his arms. Her back was warm and soft, and Dex had wanted to hold her forever. He'd told Siena to stop, but Siena had taken the first shot—the picture in the frame—and she'd caught the happiness on his lips, the look of love in his eyes. She'd caught his heart on film, and though the next five pictures showed a very different and protective Dex because Siena hadn't listened when he told her to stop taking pictures, he'd kept this one for himself.

Ellie nodded. "Siena was always up for mischief."

"She still is. I'm having lunch with her tomorrow. Want to come?" Please say yes. Having Ellie with him last night brought back so many memories and forced the ache of missing her to the forefront. He knew he shouldn't get close, but resisting Ellie was not in his bailiwick of skills.

"I can't. I need to find a job and I need to find a place to live. Oh, and call the bank to cancel my credit card." Ellie ran her hand through her hair, and her fingers tangled in its thickness.

He set the picture down. "What about reporting it to the police?"

"That sounds like a headache. There was nothing but a little cash and one bank card in my purse. I'd better shower." She started to walk past him, and he stopped her.

"Ellie, use my bathroom. The only other full bath is in the room where Regina is sleeping. How are you getting to your interview?"

She shrugged. "Walk, I guess. I'll figure it out." She opened her suitcase and began to unpack her clothes for the interview.

"I'll give you money for a cab."

She spun around. "No. I don't need—"

"No shit. You don't need money for a cab. You'll walk twenty blocks or however long it is to the school. I know you can and will, Ellie. But until you get the bank thing worked out, just take the cab money. You can make breakfast to pay me back." He smiled, knowing she was going to fight with him about the money and almost relishing in it. She was too tough for her own good—and so damned cute when she got ornery.

"I suck at cooking."

"Then you're in luck, because I don't."

She shivered. "It's chilly in here."

He crossed the floor and closed the window. "Old habits."

She narrowed her eyes.

"I sleep with it cracked every night. Always have. Well, ever since..." Ever since you showed up at my bedroom window that first time. He realized his mistake as soon as he'd said the words. He'd just given her another reason to run. Don't get close to Ellie Parker or she'll take off. That could have been written under her photo in her high school yearbook. The week his mother invited her to dinner, Ellie didn't walk home with him once. It had taken her almost two full weeks to find her way back to him again. But like a fish to water, she'd come back, and then she'd eased into his family's hearts the same way she'd snuck into his.

She shifted her gaze from the window to her toiletry bag, clearly ignoring his comment. Damn it. He had enough going on in his life that he didn't need the roller coaster ride that was Ellie Parker. But he'd be damned if every part of his body didn't crave her now that she was close.

"I'll be really quick in the shower, and I can walk, but thanks anyway."