Gone Too Deep (31 page)

After their visit to the sheriff's office, they'd checked the area around Willard's cabin for signs of Baxter, but they hadn't found anything. The news about Anderson King had made Ellie jumpy, seeing shadows around every tree. Each time she'd spooked at a sound or imagined movement, George had shifted closer and closer. She could see how he was restraining his urge to snatch her up, stuff her in his truck, and drive them both back to Chicago.

Rob had called her after they'd finished at the cabin to tell her that he was scheduling a meeting for the next day. People from the fire department, search and rescue, the sheriff's department, and anyone else who wanted to volunteer would be assigned sections of the area around Simpson to search for Baxter. Everyone's kindness took her breath away, and she blinked back tears as she thanked the sheriff.

After that, the second-best highlight of the day so far was the two hours spent at the Screaming Moose. Ellie tackled the window display, immersing herself in the project to the point that she was able to push Baxter and Anderson King to the back of her mind for a short time. George stayed at the shop for most of the time, although he made a quick grocery-store visit after she gave Rob a call and, a short time later, Chris parked his squad car in front of the shop.

As she was tugging a plastic hand through a sweater sleeve, muttering bad things under her breath about Barbara's hard-to-dress, old-school mannequins, movement outside caught her eye. Joseph was walking up to Chris's car door, and Ellie groaned. Her first instinct was to hurry to the back of the shop to hide, but Joseph's gaze was already locked on her, even as he spoke with Chris through the rolled-down window. Ellie had to settle for continuing dressing the mannequin and pretending that she hadn't seen Joseph. As she fussed with the knit sleeve, she watched him out of the corner of her eye, praying he'd leave.

He patted the top of the squad car and walked around the hood.

“Go away, go away, go away,” Ellie chanted quietly without moving her lips. She tensed when, instead of leaving, Joseph walked toward the store entrance, never taking his eyes off of her. “C'mon, Deputy. You're supposed to be protecting me. So protect me from Mr. Grabby-Hands.” Chris didn't seem to share her reservations about Joseph, though, since he wasn't making any move to stop him.

Just as Joseph reached for the shop door, George pulled his truck up behind the squad car. Ellie gave a silent cheer as Joseph spotted George and quickly turned to walk away from the store entrance. His gaze locked on the retreating man, George got out of the truck.

After Joseph was out of sight, George stood in front of the store and studied the window for several minutes. Ellie had used bright layers that contrasted cheerily with a sparkling “snowy” backdrop. While she'd been occupied with Joseph's approach, it had started snowing for real—fat, wet flakes that stuck to George's hat and beard. When she couldn't take the suspense any longer, she called through the glass, “What do you think?”

After a final few seconds of silent perusal, he turned back to her. “Nice.”

That one word from him made her glow with pride. Hurrying to the door, she held it open, giving the departing deputy a quick wave before refocusing on George. “Come in out of the snow.”

George walked toward her, eyes warm, and she bounced on her toes. He was looking at her with such heat and sweetness that she could barely restrain herself from running to meet him. As he passed through the doorway, he bent his head to give her a quick, hard kiss that sent warmth running through her entire body.

“Hi, George,” Barbara greeted from where she was installing shelves next to the entrance. “Are you taking off then, Ellie?”

“Yes,” she said. That short kiss had made her antsy to get George alone at his cabin. “The window is almost done, but I thought I'd finish tomorrow, if that's okay with you?”

Barbara stood, stretching the kinks out of her back. “Of course. It looks amazing. Thank you so much. You're really transforming this place. I wish you'd let me pay you.”

“It's fun,” Ellie said, leaning against George as he wrapped his arm over her shoulders. “Just what I need to get my mind off things. I should be paying you for the therapy.”

With a laugh, Barbara returned to her shelves. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Bye.” Ellie grabbed her coat, and George immediately took it from her so he could hold it while she slid her arms into the sleeves. Suppressing the urge to kiss him, she had to satisfy herself with a thank-you.

His “you're welcome” grunt made her smile so hard her cheeks hurt.

The flakes thickened as they drove to the cabin, making Ellie glad they were in the four-wheel-drive pickup and not her Prius. By the time they reached his driveway, there was a heavy layer of snow blanketing everything, turning the landscape into a perfect postcard representation of winter even as the truck's tires scrabbled for purchase on the slick surface.

As George pulled the pickup into the pole barn, Ellie gave a silent sigh of relief that they'd made it home safely. She hopped out and waited outside for him to lower the overhead door, looking around at the surrounding forest. The snow muffled all sound, reminding her of the woods right before the Kings had attacked. The clouds darkened the late-afternoon sun, bringing an early twilight. Tucking her chin into the collar of her coat, she stepped closer to the side of the barn, wishing George would hurry.

When he finally came out, loaded with grocery bags, she moved to help. Of course, George being George, he refused to hand over any of the sacks.

“Get the door,” he said, and she rushed toward the cabin, trying to hide her relief that they were going inside, out of sight of the watching, too-quiet forest. Flipping up the “welcome” sign, she pulled the cord to lift the latch and pushed open the door. As George brushed by her, she smiled. He gave her a questioning look, but she could only smile bigger, unable to explain the random rush of happiness that had just struck her because she was with George at his house.

Closing the door behind them, she heard the solid
thunk
of the latch falling into place.

* * *

After dinner was over and the dishes were washed, Ellie wandered into the living room. Since they'd gotten home, the atmosphere had been heavy with expectation, just needing a spark to burst into a full conflagration. She'd figured the awkward part would be over after the previous night, but she still caught George sneaking peeks at her—and she was guilty of doing the same thing. She was enjoying the suspense, though, the excitement and anticipation. She examined a beautiful coffee table as George leaned against the wall, watching her with hooded eyes.

“Did you make this, too?” she asked, moving closer to examine the carved surface.

“My dad. I'm better at working with metal than wood.”

The design was intricate and obviously had been time intensive. “I guess you can create some pretty amazing things when you don't waste all your time watching TV.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. As her gaze returned to the table, her attention was caught by a guitar case propped against the side of the couch. “When you said you played music, you meant that you really played.”

When she looked at him, he was frowning in confusion. “What else would I've meant?”

Ellie laughed. “I thought you meant that you played music, like on an iPod.” Remembering that it was George, she amended her words. “Or CDs.” She paused. “Or maybe a record player? A radio?”

He ignored her progressive downgrading of his technological devices and shook his head, walking over to the guitar case. “I like playing more than listening.”

As he laid the case flat on the floor and unfastened the clasps, she grinned. “Does this mean you're going to play now?”

Giving her a teasing look, he lifted the guitar from its case. “If I do, will you sing?”

“Will you?” she shot back, delighted when he nodded. She sat in the corner of the couch, pulling up her socked feet so she could sit cross-legged.

George sat in the middle of the sofa, his leg just a few inches from her knee. His head was tilted down as he tuned the guitar, giving it a melodic strum when he'd adjusted it to his satisfaction.

As he began to pick out a tune, the notes quiet but sweet, Ellie hugged herself. The music and the fire and the cozy old-fashioned room and the man next to her…everything merged together inside of her, filling her with a glowing contentment that rivaled the warmth of the flames in the woodstove.

Then he started to sing, and Ellie could only stare. His bass voice had a slight rasp, giving a rough edge to his words that just added to his appeal. She wondered why a guitar and a decent voice upped a man's hotness level exponentially. George gave her an encouraging nod, but she shrugged helplessly. The tune sounded vaguely familiar, but she didn't know the words. She didn't mind listening, though, losing herself in the music and the man singing.

“You said you'd sing,” he grumbled as the final notes faded.

“I need to know the words in order to sing.” She grinned at him. “Otherwise, I could hum. Or whistle.”

He was thoughtful for a few moments before picking up the opening bars to “You Are My Sunshine.”

“Seriously?” she asked, laughing, but she jumped right in when he started singing. It made her feel like a third-grader but, at the same time, she couldn't stop smiling. He wrapped it up with a flourish of chords, making her laugh.

Without pausing, George transitioned to the next song. Recognizing the introductory chords, she reached over and slapped his arm.

“You
do
have an iPod, you liar.” It was a fun, folksy rock song that had just debuted on the charts. She had it on her own phone.

He shook his head. “Radio in the truck.”

“How'd you learn how to play it?” she asked suspiciously.

His eyebrows showed confusion. “I heard it a couple times,” he said, as if explaining the obvious.

Ellie blinked. “You heard it, so you know how to play it?”

“Sure.”

“Whoa.” As they'd been talking, he'd been improvising, changing the melody slightly and then circling around to the original introduction. “You're a guitar savant, as well as a foot-massage savant!”

Narrowing his eyes, he sent her a suspicious look without missing a note. “That doesn't sound like a compliment.”

“It is. Being able to play something after just hearing it a few times… That's incredible.” She smiled at him. “I'll add it to your list of talents.”

Looking a little flustered, he dropped his gaze to the guitar and started to sing. Ellie tried to join him, but she only knew the chorus and a few words in the verses, so she improvised. Gradually, when she saw how her incorrect lyrics were amusing him, she gave up trying to be accurate at all and just went for the humor.

By the end of the song, George was laughing too hard to play. It was the first time she'd ever seen him belly laugh, and the sight was entrancing. Smiling, she watched him, happiness filling her until she felt ready to burst.

“What?” George asked, carefully setting the guitar on the floor so he could wipe tears of hilarity from his eyes.

“You're just…” Stopping, she bit her lip. “Perfect.”

His smile slipped away, and they stared at each other for a long minute. Before she even realized what she was doing, Ellie had lunged toward him. Despite her tiny relative size, she must have taken him by surprise, because he toppled backward as she hit. He'd been sitting twisted sideways so that he could face her, and he fell onto the cushions, his head barely missing the sofa arm.

Lying on top of him, Ellie was almost as surprised as he looked by her impulsive tackle. Feeling a little shy now that she had him trapped beneath her, she almost apologized and got off him. Instead, she gave into the temptation that his so-close mouth presented and kissed him fiercely.

It wasn't even a full second before he responded, cradling the back of her head to pull her impossibly closer. He took over the kiss, and Ellie reflected again what a quick learner he was, before everything was lost except for the feel of his mouth on hers.

Her hands roamed as she kissed him. Frustrated by the layers, she fumbled for his shirt buttons. When her hands slid directly against the skin of his chest, he jerked in reaction, before wrapping his arms around her and rolling them right off the couch.

There was a moment of weightlessness before Ellie figured out that they were headed to the floor. He must have realized the same thing, because he reached out with one hand and pushed away from the couch. Twisting in midair, his other arm wrapped firmly around her middle, George barely managed to avoid crushing her and the guitar. Instead, he landed on his side and quickly turned to his back, so she was above him again.

“Sorry,” he panted. Ellie wasn't sure if he was winded from the fall and landing or from the kiss. “Forgot where we were.”

Propping herself up with a hand on either side of his broad chest, she grinned at him. “Me too.” She eased her weight down until her body was plastered against his once more. “I think we're pretty stable now, though.” Her experimental side-to-side rocking motion elicited a rumbling groan from George.

Apparently, he agreed with her comment, since he pulled her head down to his. This time, when he rolled them both over, it was more successful. Even though he was supporting the majority of his weight on his arms, Ellie still felt flattened in the best way.

Her top layers felt intrusive, blocking her from feeling his bare chest against hers, so she worked them toward her shoulders. Reluctantly, she broke their kiss for the few seconds it took to pull everything up and off. Her sleeves turned inside out in her struggle to peel her sweatshirt and underlayer off her arms, but she finally worked herself free from the imprisoning fabric.