Page 7 of Reclaiming his Honor
He was pissed, the use of her given name a dead giveaway. But while she could see why he might feel she owed him an explanation, she didn’t feel like sharing the messy emotions that had been overwhelming her for hours now. “How do you think I’m holding up?”
“I think you’re in shock at seeing Mac again.”
“Excellent observation. Can we go back inside now?”
“I can’t help but wonder if this changes things between us.”
She closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Do we really need to discuss this right now? In the middle of everything else?”
“I think it’s worth your time, yes.”
“I don’t know, Turner, okay? I have no idea what Mac’s return means for me, or for us, or for my kids, or for anyone else.”
“He’s drinking. Did you notice? Four gin and tonics in the past hour alone.”
She’d seen the glass in his hand, with its carbonated beverage and telltale slice of lime. “You don’t know what he’s drinking.”
“The hell I don’t.” He pointed at her. “This is the man who nearly destroyed your life, who treated you like garbage, who neglected your children and would have sold you all down the river for a big enough bottle of booze.”
Her anger was swift. “Stop it. You were not there. And no matter what I shared with you—in confidence!--it does not give you the power or the right to weigh in on the decisions I make in my life.”
“Oh, no?” Temper flashed in his eyes as he leaned closer. “Just last night, we were talking about getting married, Ellie. Married! What do you think marriage is, if not the right to weigh in on each other’s lives? I love you, goddamn it. I loved you last night, and I loved you last week, and I loved you last year and the year before that. Now we finally get our chance to see if things can work out between us, and you’re off in fantasy land because that drunk bastard showed up uninvited to Shonda’s wedding.”
His admission of longstanding feelings for her was a revelation, but she recognized his attempt to control her for what it was. “I didn’t choose this, Turner. I didn’t ask him to come here today and send the world careening off its axis. But he did come, and the world is all messed up and crooked, and you still don’t get to decide what I do with that, even if in your opinion the timing sucks.”
“My opinion?”
She shook her head and exhaled heavily.
“My opinion,” he repeated. “So, you don’t think the timing is unfortunate.”
Damn it all to hell.
She didn’t want to hurt this man. She didn’t know what she felt and she certainly didn’t know what she wanted to do. “Turner, you say you’ve had feelings for me for a long time. I never even considered what it might be like to kiss you until last night. I’m not saying I’m not interested. I’m certainly not saying I’m going back to my husband. But you cannot blame me for being confused.”
In the tent, the band began to play Celebration, and a cheer erupted from the guests. Turner was quiet so long, she feared he would explode. Instead, he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it tenderly. “I’ve waited a long time to love you, Ellie Hearst. I guess I’ll just have to wait a little longer.”
He released her hand and turned back to the party, leaving her alone in the shadows. Grateful for the momentary reprieve from the stress of the evening, and the additional strain of the last few minutes, she wandered to an old maple tree and leaned back against its thick trunk.
The reception was beautiful from back here, perfect even, with the music and the laughter and the soft glow of the string lighting. Shonda danced with Marshall’s father. When Ellie first met him, she’d been happy her daughter would have a paternal figure in her life again. Now she wondered if she’d have two.
Would Mac stay? Maybe he was just passing through. Maybe he’d thought of them and wondered how they were and decided to see for himself before moving right back into his own life. Her eyes searched for him in the sea of people, without finding his tall, familiar form.
She jumped when he spoke from several feet behind her. “Turner seems like a decent guy.”
She put her hand to her chest as she spun around. “You scared me.” Had he heard her conversation with Turner? “How long have you been out here?”
He gestured toward the tent. “Long enough to know that that man’s got a long fight ahead of him if he thinks he can get my girl.”
The possessiveness in his voice sent a wave of sensual excitement through her lower abdomen, even as it straightened her spine. She forced herself to recline back against the tree as casually as she could muster, her hands tucked behind her. “I am not your girl, nor have I been in some time.”
He moved closer, standing between her and the party, the heady scent of him reaching her nose. “‘Nor have I been in some time,’” he mocked, a throaty chuckle rising from his chest. “You always could talk like somebody’s mama.”
“I am somebody’s mama. Three somebodies.”
“My children.”
With those two words, he conjured every moment in how those children were conceived. Her knees threatened to give out, and she arched her back, her hips pressing more tightly against the tree as the bark dug into flesh of her palms. No one else could do this to her, make her crave his touch with two simple words. She hadn’t responded this way to Turner’s kisses, though he’d obviously been quite aroused. Devil be damned, Mac O’Brady was the only man who’d ever made her legs spread in invitation, and she fought to keep that truth from her expression. “And now here you are, back in their lives. Tell me, do you intend to stay?”
