Page 67 of Those Who Are Bound

Assuming she had been forgotten for the moment, not at all minding, Elliott merely remained at the counter and watched, pride overtaking her again that such a ruggedly gorgeous man was hers to lay some sort of claim to—that he’d also been demonstratively possessive of her. When the customer started gesturing, attempting to indicate the size of something, and Jonah looked up and winked at her, it caught her by surprise. She hadn’t been forgotten; she flushed from head to toe.

Jonah sorted the man out, handed him off to Megan, and made his way to her. Taking her arm lightly, he steered her toward the front door, teasing, “Best to make a getaway now.”

Elliott laughed as they exited the store. “Are your customers mostly repeat or new off the street?”

“Both,” Jonah answered, looking both ways before crossing toward the pizza shop. “We do a pretty good online business, too. The shop in Oregon supports this one sometimes. Winters here can be dodgy. We change our stock, of course, try to predict what people will go for, stock a lot of gloves and winter gear. Snowboards, that sort of thing.”

“Do you snowboard?”

“I have.” He reached over and opened the door to the restaurant.

Elliott shook her head as she preceded him into the place. “Why do I ask? If it’s performed outdoors, of course, you have.”

“I like most of it, except fishing. I don’t have the patience for fishing, but I subject myself to it every once in a while so I can talk to my customers about it.” He led them to the bar.

“Lucy told me you aren’t a sit-around-and-wait kind of guy,” Elliott said.

Jonah gave her a curious look as the bartender threw down a couple of napkins.

“Hey, Jonah, what can I get for you?”

At the familiar greeting, Elliott teased, “A regular here, are you?”

The bartender, a heavyset man with dark hair and beard, laughed. “He keeps us in business.”

Jonah groaned as Elliott laughed. “Thanks, Russ.”

“You like your pizza, man. Nothing wrong with that; keeps the doors open.”

“It’s not something I don’t already know,” she pointed out.

He gave her an appreciative look, one that hinted at a level of intimacy beyond pizza. “So you do. Hey, Russ, can we get a medium specialty pizza?”

Russ’s brows hit his forehead. “Medium? Are you on a diet? Showing off your delicate appetite for the lady?”

Elliott laughed again, enjoying the banter between the two men; it reminded her of how her brother and his friends had razzed each other. She’d forgotten how fun it could be; she’d forgotten fun.

“Nah, I’m just feeling cheap today,” Jonah shot back. “Smaller tip.”

Russ smacked a hand over his heart. “Right where it hurts, man.” But he was clearly not affected as he typed the order into the computer. “It’ll be about twenty minutes. Anything while you wait? Maybe a beer? Glass of wine for the lady you haven’t introduced me to?”

Jonah asked her, “Do you want something to drink?”

“A beer sounds good,” she answered, slipping onto one of the barstools.

Russ declared, “I like this mystery woman.”

Jonah let out an exaggerated sigh. “Russ, man.” He shifted toward Elliott, laying his arm across the back of the chair as he said to her, “Elliott, this comedian is Russ Waide, bartender and occasional blackmailer of secrets. I hope you forgive me for the introduction. I’m not sure who’s going to regret it more, you or me.”

She giggled at his put-upon affectation, looking from Jonah to Russ, who was grinning broadly, also enjoying the display.

“Russ, you poor-mannered bastard, this is Elliott Rork, my…” He paused. She waited; it wasn’t a conversation they’d had, what they were to one another, the label. But he looked at her and said, “My girlfriend.”

Her cheeks turn bright red. Her heart jumped into her throat.

Russ nodded once. “Pleased to meet you, Jonah’s girl, Elliott.” He glanced askance at Jonah with a knowing grin. “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d meet one of Jonah’s girls.”

“Christ, Russ, you make it sound like I have a harem.”

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