Page 56 of Those Who Are Bound

Elliott

Jonahaskedhertomeet him at TrekGear early Saturday afternoon. The instruction was met with a bit of disappointment on her end; she had expected him to come to her—she had expected and fantasized about Saturday night and Sunday morning. She was thrilled to see him, to see his shop, which meant he was showing her a part of his world, but she had been counting on Sunday morning, even though it hadn’t been a topic of discussion during their texts. The expectation was all hers.

The correspondence had been sweet and light: good mornings and good nights, thinking of you, pictures of where he was in Portland—a convention of some sorts—looking bored. He sent a picture of various fishing hooks:Dilemma of the day: which ones?She’d laughed. She’d sent him a picture of a yellow and black bird that had joined her on the back deck as she drank her coffee and he’d responded,That’s a goldfinch.

But sex hadn’t been a topic. There’d been no sexting, nothing beyond gentle words of how watching the sunset made him wish she was with him, or how he wanted to show her everything he was seeing so he could see her reaction to it. She’d responded that she wanted to see it, too.

As she’d left her home, she could hear the shrill screams of what sounded like a torture chamber in her backyard. The kids’ birthday party was in full swing. It was bittersweet. Her solitude was shattered, but the space had life in it again.

She pulled into the parking lot on the other side of the railroad tracks a few minutes before the pre-arranged time. She had a pretty good idea of what time the trains ran, thanks to her brother, and hustled across the tracks toward the small village of Parkville just before the dinging of the railroad crossing sounded.

The rumble of the train followed her up the hill, vibrating beneath her feet. She made her way toward TrekGear and paused momentarily, looking over her shoulder at the coal cars going by, recalling once again the hours she and Gage would sit at a table by the river or in the coffee shop across the street to watch the train.

That Jonah had been here the entire time—that he could have been standing behind them in line for coffee, that she could have seen him walking on the street, or most likely, at the pizza shop at the same time—sent a chill over her. How had she seen him before and not noticed him? Especially since he’d consumed her thoughts so completely since she had first met him.

The tinny clang of a shop bell caught her attention, and she faced forward again. Jonah had pushed open the glass door of his shop and was standing in the doorway, dressed in blue jeans and a green polo. The butterflies in her stomach were unleashed.

“You look amazing,” he said enthusiastically, visually appraising her as though he hadn’t just seen her days ago. He held out a hand to her.

Her heart skipped; it didn’t sound corny or forced from him. “Thank you. So do you.” It was impossible for him not to, with his dark hair, gemstone eyes, tan, and outdoorsman physique. She’d looked forward to seeing him every day. “I think I’m underdressed, though.” Reaching out to take his hand, she looked down at her yoga pants, KC Heart tank top, and her hiking boots—he’d said to dress sporty.

“You’re perfect.” He pulled her to him and dropped a kiss on her lips.

She hoped she never got accustomed to the electric snap that arced through her body when he touched her, when he kissed her. She teased, “You’re going to be the talk of the town, Mr. Montgomery, kissing strange women at the door of your shop.”

Jonah responded devilishly, “It’s a strategic move; alerting the others you’re mine.” He stepped aside as her mouth gaped. He jerked his head toward the interior. “Come in, let me introduce you, and then we’ll gear you up.”

Elliott stepped inside. “Gear me up?”

“Have you been on a motorcycle before?”

Hand clasped in his, her concentration on him, she didn’t pause to look around the shop as he led her through the aisles toward the back of the store. “Uh, no. Are you putting me on a motorcycle?”

He flashed a grin back at her. She almost stumbled.

“So, you’re the man my mother warned me about.”

“Which man is that?” he asked.

“Tall, dark, handsome, and dangerous,” she answered.

He paused by an assortment of aquatic gear, turning to her with a curious look. “I don’t think the dangerous part is meant to be literal. I think it refers to how much caution you’re willing to throw to the wind for what you want.”

Elliott stared back at him. Taking a deep breath, she said meaningfully, responding quietly, “Then that makes you pretty damn dangerous, Jonah Montgomery.” The air immediately thickened.

Jonah grinned again, that devastating look sparking an excited throbbing between her legs. The alpha male-esque comment had been meant as a joke, but he looked predatory behind that grin. The surroundings of outdoor gear enhanced the effect.

“Hey,” a sarcastic midwestern drawl of what could only be a teenage male interrupted them, “I know you own the joint, but the pheromones the two of you are releasing are making it uncomfortable for the rest of us.”

Elliott blushed in amused embarrassment as Jonah groaned and turned toward the back of the store where they’d been heading.

“Manners, Kale,” Jonah said dryly.

Elliott was intrigued; she had to see the kid whose mother named him after a cabbage. Of course, she had a man’s name, so maybe she shouldn’t judge. However, the kid was rather cliché for someone who worked in an adventure gear store. He was a skinny blond around college-age in a tie-dyed shirt and loose faded black cargo shorts with a messy man bun. His brown eyes were sharp but held an air of derisiveness. Elliott assumed sarcasm was his form of wit.

“Just saying,” the kid responded in a mutter as he leaned on the glass counter that held various GPS devices. His attention cut over to Elliott and took her in. “Although… I get it. Nice job, boss. She’s bangin’.”

“Kale!” Jonah reprimanded, this time with some bite behind the word. “Apologize.”

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