Page 35 of Feels Like Falling
But he doesn’t let me go.
Instead, he stares into my soul, the promise ofmoreplain in his gaze andoh my, yes please.
“All right, Casanova, Imma steal your girl before you guys accidentally burn this place to the ground with all those fuck-me vibes about to ignite,” Bea says as she, quite literally, wedges herself between us with a saccharine smile at Montana and a wink at me.
Properly chastised, he steps back with a shake of his head like he’s trying to right himself after realizing the room had been spinning.
“I need a drink,” I tell Bea, and she snorts as she leads me toward the fridge.
“Dang girl, after that little show I need a cigarette and I don’t even smoke!”
You and me both.
16
MONTANA
The evening is substantially less eventful after Bea steals Ellison from me for what I can only assume is girl talk. They giggle and whisper, talking animatedly as I continue to sneak glances at the girl who shouldn’t have me completely in knots but does anyway. The guys don’t try to hide their amusement at me becoming completely unhinged at my best friend ogling Jensen. Even Bodhi snickers at my expense, and the guy barely reacts to anything.
But I’d lost any sort of reason as I’d watched her stare at him. Hell, I’m man enough to admit that our resident law enforcement officer is good-looking with his big muscles and movie-star appeal. Still, I wasn’t this guy. If the Lord above had been standing in the kitchen with us, I would have only been able to see Ellison. She’d been right to call me out for being jealous becausejealouswas an understatement.
Mason had jokingly offered a bedroom for us to “sort yourselves out”and had my feet not been rooted to the floor I would have hauled her over my shoulder, stalked down the hall, and fucked her into the mattress until she promised never to look at the sheriff like that again.
“You’re up, Montana,” Archer says, motioning to the few remaining numbers in the muffin tins on the counter and handing me a Ping-Pong ball. So far, the prizes tonight had ranged from cash to candy, nips of alcohol, glasses with the nose and mustache on them, and a dozen other ridiculous things.
It had started after Mason had watched a couple of family challenge videos like this on social media and thought it looked like fun. The guy was impossible to say no to, and honestly, there was no reason we couldn’t humor him with a monthly game night.
And really, it was so much more than that.
Mason and Bodhi had settled more into Blackstone Falls over the couple of years they’d been here. But while Bodhi always seemed ready to bolt with one foot out the door, Mason was trying like hell to belong in our small town. He wanted permanence—stability—and I’d do anything to help him. Plus I liked hanging out with these guys.
And Bea.
And now, Ellison.
She’d been tentative at first, but after a couple of rounds, she’d joined in with the trash talking and storytelling. She fit here, and aside from me wanting to bury myself inside her until this manic feeling subsided, I liked her in this space.
“Quit stalling and take your shot, old man,” Mason heckles from across the counter, and I snicker as I line up my shot and send the ball bouncing down the granite countertop.
I fist pump when it lands in the one labeled 13 and saunter to the table to claim my prize, snatching up the matching cup. “Old man, my ass,” I gloat as I snap the five-dollar bill between my fingers for everyone to see.
There’s only a handful of numbers left, but they’re spread out between the two muffin tins, and the more Jensen continues landing in the empty spaces, the more colorful his cursing becomes. Guy might be in charge of keeping the peace around here, but he’s off duty and all bets are off at this point.
Bea nails her next turn and the one after that too, earning her a not-so-sweet kiss from Archer and a bunch of hoots and hollers from the rest of us. Jensen misses every shot, and the game is finally put to rest when Ellison and Bodhi land the last two numbers.
“Game was rigged,” Jensen grumbles, and it has Mason’s normal smile growing impossibly wider.
“Oh, come on, Sheriff. You had fun,” Bea says with a wink as she wraps her arms around Archer’s waist. She rests her head on his sternum, because that’s as high as she reaches, but I don’t miss the way his arm automatically goes around her, pulling her tight against him. It’s not that I’d never noticed their small displays of affection, but somehow with Ellison in the room, I’m more aware of the possibility I could have that too.
That I want that.
That I’ve never wanted anything as badly as to be able to claim Ellison in a crowded room and not just because I lost my shit earlier over her looking at Jensen.
I want her to be mine and I want to be hers and I want every damn thing that goes along with it.
I just need to figure out how to do it.
The round of goodbyes takes forever even though it’s probably no different than normal. I can’t even appreciate how well tonight went because all I can think about is the way I need her pressed against me, her body hot and needy and begging forme.
