Page 121 of Those Who Are Bound

Elliott

Elliottmovedthroughtheevent space with ease, her heart having a pitter-patter moment of ache combined with contentment. She’d experienced it many times since Gage died, when the place was packed and people were enjoying themselves. It was only right that he should be here, experiencing it, seeing the fruits of his labors.

For now, she was relieved that she and Lucy were okay and had moved past the drama of her… well, dramatics. She had been nervous, afraid that the woman would quit, even though Jonah reassured her that Lucy lost her shit on a regular basis and this wouldn’t cause her to walk away from her job.

Elliott hadn’t been sure. But then Lucy had arrived, and she had blurted out, “Please don’t fire me,” at the same time Elliott had begged, “Please don’t quit.” They’d looked at each other for a stunned moment, then talked over each other again:

“Why would I quit?”

“Why would I fire you?”

Elliott had apologized for her behavior, and Lucy had apologized for not respecting her instructions. Lucy had looked far guiltier than she needed to, but Elliott let it go. After all, she wanted the conversation about ropes to pass.

First Lucy, then Jonah. The freaking rope master with a closetful of ropes that had almost driven her to her knees. His touching her hadn’t been painful; it had been an overload of sensation. She had been so close to showing him what other uses those items had, and they weren’t for rocks and boulders. He’d have been shocked—horrified. As rough as he could be, there were lines…

Literally.

She’d needed to get away from that display, from him. He hadn’t understood, she knew that. But he still hadn’t run away. He had given her a knee-bending, albeit chaste, kiss and left her panting for more. He’d texted her when he returned home last night and a few times today. He really wasn’t that man.

And though she’d believed him about what prevented him from showing up tonight, it helped when Lucy had mentioned in passing that she wished Jonah could have been here. Elliott wasn’t in the habit of letting non-attendees crash events, but she considered Jonah her person, so… yeah, he was welcome anytime. And it wasn’t as though he’d be drinking and eating; he would have shown up to support Lucy.

Elliott made her way through the room toward the bar. Music, disco balls, lights, and dancing couples both on the dance floor and standing between the round tables. The noise level was high but not too crazy. The patio doors were open, and thankfully the midwestern weather was cooperating.

She bypassed the line and walked around to the bar where a bald-headed bartender with tattoos peeking from beneath his crisp white collar kept up with the demand. She smiled at him as she moved behind the bar and helped herself to a beer. He watched her suspiciously as he concocted a whiskey and ginger.

“I’m Elliott,” she greeted.

“Killion,” he responded, still looking over at her with a frown, his dark hazel eyes openly questioning her movements. He passed off the drink and lifted his chin to signal the next person. As she stood there, watching, he warily eyed her back.

After a few sips of her beer and his continued bafflement, she chuckled to herself. He didn’t know who she was, and even though it was an open bar, her behavior was obviously strange to him. She informed him, “I own the joint. Besides, it is an open bar.”

As he handed over the requested beers, he gave her another once-over. “One, nice to meet you, boss lady; two, order—chaos—fine line.”

“I like you, Killion. Be sure to leave your name with Lucy.” She shifted, moving away.

“I just told you,” he called after her.

Raising her hand in the air, she repeated over her shoulder, pointing in the general direction of Lucy, “Tell Lucy.” She lifted the beer to her lips and weaved through the tables.

A teenaged boy stepped in her path, and she halted quickly, looking at his nervous freckled face. He had a shock of red hair and startling blue eyes. He was giving her a timid yet hopeful look.

“May I help you?” she asked in what she hoped was a kind voice. She wasn’t accustomed to kids.

He swallowed and dropped his gaze to the low cut of her dress, where a gentle swell of cleavage was visible. He nodded, swallowing again, his cheeks turning apple red. “I, uh… I was hoping I could have this dance?”

Elliott followed his gaze, making sure that she wasn’t revealing too much unintentionally, the way he was fixated. Judging that all was well wardrobe-wise, she looked to the DJ, considering the rock music. “You want to dance with me to Sevendust?”

His face turned redder.

Taking pity on him, she asked, “What’s your name?”

“Preston. This is my dad’s party.” He ticked his chin up, as though that gave him clout.

“Ah.” She smiled. “I’m Elliott. This is my property. Thank you for being here. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, uh…”

She pointed out a few of the nearby teenagers. “Aren’t any of these young ladies available and interested in a well-connected young man such as yourself?”

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