Page 19 of Spellbound
He wiped his mouth with his hand but he was still grinning, the asshat. “I’ll walk you over. Make sure you don’t get . . . lost.”
“I’ve been walking since I was one.” I gave a nod toward the sea of people surrounding the unique wooden structure manned by a pair of bartenders. “I’ll meet you over there when I’m done.” Eli gave me a skeptical look but let me go and turned to stand in line.
Luckily, my timing was excellent and there was no line for the restroom. By the time I washed away sweat and dabbed my face, then washed my hands and wanted to freshen my lipstick—oops, purse was still in the car—I was a bit more clear-headed. And wracking my brain to remember the last time I had a hangover. I hoped it wouldn’t be tomorrow.
Eli was nearly to the bar. I met him there and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Did you miss me?” Though the night was winding down, the music was still loud and the dance floor still crowded. “I only want a bottle of water, then I’m ready to call it a night.”
He tugged me close, our bodies plastered together. “I’ll show you how much I missed you as soon as I get you home.”
A man with a couple of beer bottles hanging from one had backed away from the bar and cleared a spot for Eli. The bartender who came forward was a big guy, plaid shirt and the mountain man beard to go with the rest of him. He wiped the counter as he moved, shouting to a man down the row.
“Nah, man. No new pictures today. Yeah, I know he’s cute. Maybe next week.” He turned to us, mumbling, “I think my kid’s more popular than I am.” He looked up.
“What’ll it be?” He froze. “Oh, good Christ. You’re him. The Master.” He dropped the towel and scrubbed his palms down the front of his jeans, then shoved out a hand. “I’m Earl.” They shook. Earl stepped back with his hands on his hips. “Eli Masterson, here in my place. Would you look at that?”
I pulled back from Eli, glancing between the two men. One wore an awed expression; the other one of chagrin. Mine would definitely be one of confusion. What part of this was I supposed to understand? Who wasthe master? A celebrity of some sort, obviously. And as a (former) member of the press(ish), why was I the only one in the dark?
“What kind of game are you playing with me?” I was irritated, feeling gullible and the target of some ruse. And probably still a little buzzed. My voice was snappish and I didn’t care.
Eli raised a hand. “Babe, let’s go outside where we can talk.” Earl’s announcement had drawn a bit of a crowd, but the word hadn’t made the rounds yet. “I tried to tell you earlier but then—” He lifted a shoulder.
But then Stephanie called. And then we were due at the church. We’d been on the go since then. His expression would be unreadable to most, but I sensed the caution in his eyes and that firm set of his lips. His privacy was important to him.
I took his hand and led him through the crowd toward the wide entrance. Grant and then Colleen yelled after us, but we just raised our hands to let them know we were fine.
I only hoped it was true.
10
Eli
We blewthrough the doors of The Barn and out into the crisp night air. Bent at the waist, hands braced on my thighs, I dragged in huge gulps of it. Let my lungs fill till my racing heart slowed to its normal rhythm.Jesus fuck, tell me I didn’t just storm out like a pouty toddler.I squeezed my eyes shut, then popped them open and turned to face Emma Grayce.
“I’m sorry. You deserved to find out from me, not from some rumor floating around a bar.”
She nodded slowly, led me the short walk to where her car was parked, and took a seat on the hood. She seemed distant, but not exactly angry.Maybe I didn’t just kill us?
She peered up into my face. “Let me get this straight. You’re apologizing for what you do? Or because you didn’t get a chance to spin it? And while we’re on the subject, what the fuck is it you do? Do I even want to know what you’rethe masterof?” She air quoted my nickname.
I hopped up on the hood beside her, a little clumsy, and obviously not as sober as I thought. I stilled when the metal creaked beneath me. In the beam from the light pole illuminating the parking lot, I could see her brow was furrowed. Jesus, I had her all kinds of messed up and confused. I slid my hand closer and laid it over hers.
“Baseball. I’m a pitcher.” I took a moment to arrange my words. I could trust her, right? Somehow, after such a short time. I sensed that my story was safe with her. “I just signed a new contract, which my ex-girlfriend pretty much took as a proposal. The girl is whack, and now out of my life. Or so I thought. Seems she got some rag to print a convoluted version of actual events. And here I am. Laying low. Flying under the radar. Basically, hiding out with my grandmother.”
I thought I’d have her full attention after laying it all out there, but Emma Grayce seemed deep in thought.
“This story, it said you stole your girlfriend’s credit card and maxed it, something like that?”
I nodded. I’d be grateful she didn’t remember the accusation that I cheated.
“I read it. The article. It was damning, but really, you have to consider the source. How many people are going to believe something like that until they hear it on a major news network, or even ESPN?”
How many?“Enough to send me on an unplanned vacation, that’s for sure.” I paused. Shook my head. “See, even you saw it; what does that tell you?”
“Eli, I live in Boston.”
Seriously?“You do? What part?” The disaster that had been my life for the past couple of weeks was abruptly inconsequential. But why didn’t she speak up when I suggested a long-distance relationship?
“Close enough that we don’t need a long-distance plan.”
