Page 95 of Chasing Shelter

“We do. And she is one hundred percent your business. Who I have in my bed is not. You’ll get a call if I’m moving someone in or getting married. That’s it.”

Leah let out a frustrated huff, the only expulsion of emotion she seemed to allow. “It’s as easy as that for you?”

“Le, talking about who either of us is involved with isn’t exactly healthy. Let’s stay focused on our daughter, all right?”

“Sure,” she muttered and turned, stalking toward her car.

I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose as hard as I could. Sometimes, the pressure points there could clear the tension headache away. Somehow, I had a feeling this wouldn’t be one I could stave off.

Fuck.

None of this was easy. None of it was how I’d wanted it to be when I asked Leah to marry me. But as I watched her walk to her car, get in, and mindfully close the door without even a slam to betray how she felt, I wasn’t sorry that we’d ended up here. Because there’d never been the kind of fire between us that there should’ve been.

And for the first time, I could see why she’d strayed. What she was reaching for when she had. Because I had flickers of thatmore, that fire, with Ellie.

I turned and stared up at the pale purple house, hearing thefaintest strains of some god-awful pop music from inside. But it made a smile tug at my lips. I strode toward the front door and opened it, the music intensifying.

Crossing to the living room, I took in total and complete chaos. Furniture was piled in the center of the room in a completely disorganized fashion and covered with a plastic tarp. Trays of paint lay in a haphazard array. But my girls…they were having the time of their lives.

Keely wore what had to be one of Ellie’s T-shirts as makeshift coveralls, and they both shimmied and shook as they worked on the lightest part of a rainbow, the yellow. It wasn’t your average, in-the-lines rainbow. I could see from a red curve Ellie had been working on earlier that it was imperfect and wild, not playing within expectations. It looked like a watercolor someone had dumped drops of water on.

I could see how it would take shape, and it was perfect in all its imperfections. It was Ellie. It was what Ellie was showing me I could be.

A series of barks tore through the air, and teeth suddenly sank into my jeans-clad ankle. Or should I saytooth. Because Gremlin really only had one snaggletooth left, and it was loose on a good day.

I glared down at him as Keely spun around.

“Daddy, look what we’re making!” she cheered.

I tipped my head up to take them in again. “Pretty amazing.”

Ellie set down her paintbrush and crossed to me, picking up the little beast. “Grem, that’s not nice.”

“Don’t think he gives a damn,” I muttered.

Ellie’s mouth curved. “You know, Chief, I’ve heard a few cuss words slipping from your mouth lately.”

I shrugged. “Better fine me. We’ve got a swear jar at my house. It’d be nice to have something other than Kye’s money in there.”

Ellie laughed, the sound wrapping around me. Even that was a little wild. “Come on, I’ll get you something to drink. I already got Keely some strawberry bubble water.”

Strawberry bubble water.Jesus, even her water was whimsical. But I followed her into the kitchen.

Ellie set Gremlin on the floor, and he let out a little growl in my direction. “Be nice,” she said. Opening the fridge, she gave it a once-over. “I’ve got strawberry bubble water, beer, Coke, and a half-drunk bottle of rosé.”

An image of Ellie dancing around her living room in her underwear with a glass of wine popped into my head. “I’ll take the beer.”

She leaned in, those awful coveralls pulling taut across her ass, grabbed a bottle, opened it, and handed it over. “You should really have this in a glass with an orange, but I ate my last one with breakfast.”

I took the bottle from her, our fingers brushing, that phantom energy swirling between us. “I think I’ll survive.” I took a swig of the beer as she leaned back against the counter. “What spurred all this on?” I gestured to her outfit, knowing she’d understand that I meant the mural.

Shadows flickered across Ellie’s expression, and I wanted to take the question back, but then they passed, morphing into something I couldn’t quite read. “Seeing Kye’s murals at Haven reminded me of something I wanted. Reminded me that I could have that now.”

I frowned. There was no denying that my brother was talented. His artistry was the kind of thing that held people captive and made them travel from all over the world to have his pieces inked into their skin. But this was more than a search for artistry.

Ellie’s fingers curled around the lip of the counter, bleaching white. “My dad hated bright things. Hated anything that didn’t fit into his neat and orderly world of what wasacceptable.”

Hell.

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