Page 30 of Slow Kind of Love

Pride a little wounded and mind wandering, he stood with Nate and his brother Beck while the women sat on the benches below them and watched the game. Rose was nowhere to be found, and with a scattered mind centered on Elise and her whereabouts, he didn’t pay much attention to where his cousin was at, or the game, for that matter. Which, if he had been, would have witnessed a real nail-biter.

When it was over, he pulled his phone from his pocket for what had to be the tenth time and frowned at the radio silence. Nothing from Elise, and he could tell she hadn’t read his last message either. He quickly sent her another text about Benji’s win and waited.

Again, no response.

“Everything good?” Nate asked.

“Right as rain.” He slipped his phone back into his back pocket. He knew this next step with him and Elise was a big one, but so far, he wasn’t feeling very confident about their status, and for Link Major, that wasn’t something he was used to. He glanced down at Poppy, who was hugging her husband. Then he spied Molly making her way up to Nate. Even Beck’s wife, Sid, had already found her way to his side.

Link stuck out like a sore thumb. Screw it, he thought. With a quick goodbye to the Jacobs brothers, he headed back out into the cold night air and jogged to his truck. It took some time to get out of the parking lot on account of how busy it was, but he reached Elise’s home less than ten minutes later

He pulled in behind a white SUV and cut the engine. Déjà vu hit him square in the gut, and he sat there for a few seconds considering his next move. It wasn’t David’s vehicle, but who the hell did it belong to? Should he go inside? Should he go home and pretend he’d never been there or seen the truck? Did he—

“Jesus, man, get hold of yourself.”

Link pushed out of his truck and strode up the walkway, frowning as he neared the door. Music was blasting so loud, he heard it plain as day. Guns N’ Roses. Axl’s vocals were being challenged by two very loud, very feminine, off-key voices.

Link knocked a few times, unsurprised that no one heard him. He checked the door, which was unlocked, and then opened it. What he saw would be something he’d think about later, and every time that he did, it would bring a smile to his face.

Elise, hair wild and all over the place, she shook her body and danced on the sofa, a pink feather boa wrapped around her neck that snaked down her body and jerked along with her movements. She was still in gym tights, the kind that should be illegal, and her skin was flush from jumping and singing and flailing about. Considering the six empty bottles on the kitchen island, a considerable amount of wine had been consumed. There was a woman with her, in similar condition, belting out “Welcome to the Jungle” while she played air guitar as if her life depended on it.

Pancake was curled up in his bed by the fireplace, chilling as if this was an everyday occurrence, but when he spied Link, he jumped to his feet and began to bark crazily.

Elise’s girlfriend took notice, and, after a few more heartfelt attempts at singing along to the Guns by herself, eventually Elise noticed him too.

“Link!” Elise’s smile made his heart ramp up. God, she was beautiful.

Out of breath, she had to shout his name over the music, which was definitely at volume eleven. She clumsily pointed to the woman beside her, who stared at him with a weird expression on her face. “This is my best friend, Heather.”

Heather grabbed the remote and turned off the music, leaving the room silent. Her expression had him concerned, as if he’d walked in on a private moment, which he had, so Link didn’t know if he should just give a quick wave and leave or—

“My husband is cheating on me with a Barbie Doll half his age.” Heather’s chin jutted up. “What do you think about that?”

“I think the man’s a bloody idiot.”

Heather looked at Elise and shrugged. “I like him.” She wavered on her feet and sat down in a rush. “I don’t feel so good.” Elise joined her and primly tugged on the ends of her feather boa. “We need food.”

“McDonald’s.”

“Oh my God, a Big Mac.”

“With super-sized french fries.”

“We’ll regret that in the morning.” Elise sounded so serious, Link had to hide a smile.

“I can’t cook,” Heather replied with a hiccup.

“I can’t either.” Elise smiled up at him. “But Link can.”

He wandered over and bent low to press his mouth against her neck. She shivered. He smiled. “Anything you ladies want.”

While the girls sat at the island discussing, with vicious abandon, one Vicky Sims and one husband named Reg, he gave them each a big glass of water, which he refilled twice while cooking up some mac & cheese and bacon. A plate of toast to go along with it, and more water to wash it down finished things off, and it didn’t take long for the women to eat all the mac & cheese and root around for a bag of chips from the treat cupboard.

By the time the bag was empty, it was nearly eleven and the girls were back on the sofa, with Heather nodding off and Elise fighting to stay awake. Link found an extra blanket from the closet beside Elise’s room and took the pillows off the bed in the spare bedroom. He got Heather comfortable on the sofa, tucked her in tight, and then scooped up a sleeping Elise.

“I like taking care of you,” he murmured, cradling her like a treasure as he headed down the hallway to her bedroom. He tugged off her sneakers, and she woke up giggling, falling back onto the bed and clumsily trying to wriggle out of her tights. She lifted her hips, swore when her fingers got tangled in the waistband, and gazed up at Link until he pulled them off.

The way she looked at him fired up every single cell in his body. He reached down and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, then kissed her softly. She opened beneath him, hungry for more, and for a few insane seconds, he indulged her. He kissed her deeply, tongue tasting as he inhaled her scent and held her face with his hands. But he’d never been the guy to take advantage of a tipsy woman, not even one he was involved with. If they’d indulged in all that wine together, it would be different. But he was stone-cold sober, and it felt wrong. Even though he wanted nothing more than to get naked and do the kinds of things that would make her scream his name louder than she’d been screaming Guns N’ Roses, he kissed the tip of her nose and pulled away.

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