Chapter 88 (1/2)

”You ride?” Elliot asks from behind me.

I whirl around. ”You're back.”

”It would appear so.” He grins, and I realize that Christian might say the same thing to me - but without the huge, heart-melting grin.

”Well?” he asks.

Manwhore!

”Sort of.”

”Do you want a go?”

I snort. ”Um, no . . . I don't think Christian would be very happy if I did.”

”Christian's not here.” Elliot smirks - oh, it's a family trait - and waves his arm to indicate we're alone. He strolls toward the nearest bike and swings a long denimed leg over the saddle, sitting astride and grabbing the handlebars.

”Christian has, um . . . issues about my safety. I shouldn't.”

”You always do what he says?” Elliot has a wicked sparkle in his baby-blue eyes and I see a glimmer of the bad boy . . . the bad boy Kate has fallen in love with. The bad boy from Detroit.

”No.” I arch an admonishing brow at him. ”But I'm trying to put that right. He has enough to worry about without adding me to the mix. Is he back?”

”I don't know.”

”You didn't go fishing?”

Elliot shakes his head. ”I had some business to deal with in town.”

Business! Holy shit - groomed blonde business! I inhale sharply and gape at him.

”If you don't want to ride, what are you doing in the garage?” Elliot is intrigued.

”I'm looking for wood for the fire.”

”There you are. Oh, Elliot - you're back.” Kate interrupts us.

”Hey, baby.” He smiles broadly.

”Catch anything?”

I scrutinize Elliot's reaction. ”No. I had a few things to take care of in town.” And for one brief moment, I see a flash of uncertainty cross his face.

Oh shit.

”I came out to see what was keeping Ana.” Kate looks at us, confused.

”We were just shooting the breeze,” Elliot says, and the tension crackles between them.

We all pause as we hear a car pull up outside. Oh! Christian's back. Thank heavens. The garage door opener whirrs loudly into action, startling us all, and the door slowly lifts to reveal Christian and Ethan unloading a black flatbed truck. Christian stops when he sees us all standing in the garage.

”Garage band?” he asks sardonically as he wanders in, heading straight for me.

I grin. I am relieved to see him. Beneath his wax coat he's wearing the overalls I sold him at Claytons.

”Hi,” he says looking quizzically at me, ignoring both Kate and Elliot.

”Hi. Nice overalls.”

”Lots of pockets. Very handy for fishing.” His voice is soft and seductive, for my ears only, and when he gazes down at me his expression is hot.