Embracing Ellie: Chapter 6

Ellie thumped his shoulder when they got in the Land Rover. He rubbed the sore spot and showed her an innocent and perplexed expression, though he knew why she was mad.

Her brow furrowed, and she jutted her mean face forward. “Why would you do that?”

He shrugged, doing his best to mime confusion. He couldn’t do it with a straight face, so he ventured tentatively, “You mean, what, not going on the hike up the cliff?”

“Not just that, Daniel,” she said, settling into her seat, and looking for the belt. “You know what you did.”

Danny smiled now in relief as Ellie faced away. He started the vehicle. “You want to grab a bite?” He squeezed down his smile and looked innocent again.

Ellie got the belt done up and looked at him. “You’re a jerk.”

He laid an open hand on his chest. “Me? I don’t know what I did.”

“All that talk about me and Hemi, putting that in my head… And then you bail on the hike and let me go up there alone with him…?”

Now he showed great concern. “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

Ellie was mad right away. “Of course he didn’t, Daniel. He’s a nice guy. I’m the bad guy.”

“Why are you the bad guy?”

Through clenched teeth, she said, “Because my husband put bad ideas in my head.”

“My goodness, Ellie. What were you thinking? What kind of bad things?”

Ellie rolled her eyes and lay a cheek in her palm, elbow on the doorsill. “Danny, I know you’re joking and you think you’re being funny right now, but I’m serious.”

“You can’t be serious, Ellie. I saw your face when you came down from the hike up the hill. You were so happy. You weren’t mad at all.”

She regarded him dryly, no expression, eyebrows high. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, fine. Let’s go get something to eat.”

In his best Hemi impression, he said, “Worked up an appetite, didya?”

Ellie looked close to thumping his shoulder again.

#

They stopped at a restaurant in Queenstown on the way back to the estate, an expensive place with a patio and a view of Lake Wakapitu and the mountains. The brick patio was huge and ran all the way to a knee-high stone barrier that separated the patio and walkways from the lake’s stony beach. There were people out on the beach, tossing French fries to gulls and walking along the shore, taking pictures and filming the scenery. Wharfs and docks and the backs of the businesses and restaurants that ran along the Main Street edged the north side of the lake. And somewhere in the distance was their chalet. Danny ordered the Spanish tortilla with chorizo and she had French toast that came with fresh berries and powdered sugar and real maple syrup from Canada. They shared a chilled carafe of local chardonnay.

Daniel dropped the whole Hemi thing, and she didn’t mention it once on the drive back to Queenstown. But it had been on her mind. Yeah, she was mad at Danny, but maybe that was reflexive or defensive. She didn’t like being attracted to Hemi, and that was mostly because a married woman who loved her husband shouldn’t be attracted to another man, even if he was a mountain of muscular charm and humor and good looks. But what the hell, right?—Danny didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Seemed to encourage her to get a good look at the guy.

But how serious could he be? And what was the point of all of this?

“It’s kind of mean, doing that,” she said.

“Mean? Doing what?”

“It’s like you’re bullying me with this.”

“With what, with Hemi? I’m only teasing, Ellie.”

“I know you are, but you’ve got me riled. And even saying that—that you’ve got me riled, right away makes me think you’ll say Hemi riled me. But it’s you. You’re riling me.”

Danny shrugged, and it annoyed her; like he wasn’t taking her seriously. He swallowed a bite of tortilla, then said, “Ellie, we’re just having fun.” He took a sip of wine and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll knock it off if you want. I just really like seeing you like this.”

“You like seeing me annoyed?”

“Not annoyed, baby,” he said and reached over to take her hand. He thumbed her knuckles. “I said it before: you have a big smile on your face when he’s around and you get quite bubbly. Like, why wouldn’t I love to see you bubbly? That’s one of my favorite things in the world.” He laid a hand over his heart in a sign of honesty. “And I guess I don’t care if it’s Hemi doing it. I just like it. I don’t have a pretty face and a wonderful smile the way you do. I don’t think what happens to my heart when I see you that way happens to you when I’m smiling and having fun—”

“I like it when you’re smiling and having fun. That’s not fair.”

“No, I know. But you’re not listening. I think it’s different for you. I’m talking about how I feel. It’s hard to explain. I’ve never seen you rendered so feminine by a gorgeous guy before.”

“What, I’m not normally feminine? What does that mean?”

Danny laughed and lowered his head in mock surrender. “I guess I can’t explain it.” He looked up again. “It’s innocent, Ellie. I love you. That’s all. When I see the way Hemi makes your cheeks blush, I just want to hug you and tickle you. And other things, too”—he looked around at the other diners out in the sunshine—“that I can’t say out loud right now.”

She sighed and swiped the last corner-crust of her French toast through a plate-chicane swabbed with maple syrup and ate it. She set her fork down. “I’m not as mad as I act,” she admitted.

“I know you’re not,” he said. “You’re defensive. And you should be. I’d be mad if you weren’t.”

She chuckled now, admiring her handsome husband, and the way the sun painted his suntanned face. “Like what if I was all into it, you know? What if I was like, boy, Hemi would rock my world, or whatever?” She shimmied her hips in an unseen burlesque under the table. Danny got the point, amused. Amused and something else, though. Interested? More than that. Oh no, was it aroused? Did that just arouse him? That was the look. That was the internal gear change Danny showed when they’d mess around at the house and end up in bed together. She stopped doing the hip thing and grabbed her wine.

Danny’s eyes stayed on her for a long, quiet moment while she sipped ice cold wine in the sun. He said, “Yeah, he probably would.”

She didn’t back down. Curious now. She agreed. “I’m sure he would,” she said, setting her wine back down with a breathy laugh. It was ridiculous to think of, but, yeah, Hemi was a man-mountain, and she was a timid woman from a good family, one who saved herself for marriage and one who probably didn’t know all the latest tricks in the bedroom that girls got up to these days. There were lots of insinuations in the shows she watched, but…

She slipped her hands between her thighs and squeezed, leaning forward, whispering, “But I wouldn’t exactly rock his.” The thought of her not knowing what to do with big-man Hemi amused her, and she laughed.

Danny raised a hand to the server, showing they were done, and he wanted the bill.

She said, “We were going to split the crème brûlée, I thought—and have a coffee.”

Danny said, “There’s coffee at the chalet. I just want to get out of here.”

#

It seemed Danny wasn’t kidding about Hemi blushing his wife’s cheeks not bothering him. And she was right about Danny getting aroused at the cafe when she talked openly about Hemi Armstrong. It was weird and, at first, unwelcome. But now it was funny and kind of welcome. It put an uncomfortable pit in her tummy, a natural discontent for the taboo subject. But maybe being the center of her husband’s sexual fantasies was a good thing. No, it was a good thing. She only thought of Danny. Danny always said he only thought of her (and she believed him). But now it seemed Danny added someone new to his naughty-thoughts folder. Still her—which was fantastic. But her with Hemi. Every time she thought of it, it made her giggle with awkward humor. But she saw the arousing aspect of it as well.

Danny never said he’d gotten an erection at the cafe, but she knew he did. He did all the Danny moves when he sported one. The way he adjusted his shorts at the table. The way he walked out of the cafe. The way he tugged at his crotch and short leg while he drove from Queenstown out to the estate. They talked about other things, things unrelated to Hemi, and though the subject had waned, she kept thinking about it. And she was pretty sure Danny did, too. The idea of affecting Danny without doing a thing on purpose riled her in an unexpected way, and she wondered if unexpected arousal was normal. Danny didn’t figure on Hemi being such a spark, she was sure of that. The way it had come out of left field to Danny was probably much the same as this new arousal she felt by being Danny’s odd sexual obsession. Thinking of her with another man? But there were still moments where some inner voice reminded her she should be offended. It was immoral.

No coffee when they arrived at the chalet. Coffee was forgotten. They went to the bedroom, but only to change into comfortable lounging attire. She was surprised Danny didn’t try to wrangle her into bed—she would’ve jumped right in with him—and she guessed perhaps Danny’s own strange arousal perplexed him, much like it perplexed her.

Another unexpected result: Danny dropping the subject had her craving that tight tummy feeling she’d had in the restaurant. Wanting him to tell her more about how he thought of her with Hemi. And what are Hemi and I up to, darling Danny?

Danny’s withdrawal from the topic had her fishing for further explication and exploration, curious and intrigued, and wanting the return of some of that unfamiliar but powerful… What—hunger? That’s what it was, a feeling of need.

So it was her idea they make fruity cocktails and enjoy them together out on the chalet’s patio. Maybe they’d even share the hammock together.

#

When he’d wanted to skedaddle from the cafe, he’d intended to get Ellie back to the chalet and get into bed with her. Then he’d felt guilty about it. Balked at the idea. It was all so unwholesome. So seedy. Still, he couldn’t help how it made him feel—but he didn’t want Ellie to get mad at him about and he definitely didn’t want her to think any less of him for having such thoughts.

Ellie was sweet and kind and not that kind of adventurous girl. He wasn’t that guy either.

He regarded her now, really a vision of angelic beauty; too good to be true. Lounging in the sun with him, the two of them laid out in the multicolored canvas hammock on the patio, under the shade of a towering tree with the throbbing sun only beginning its wane, descending from high noon, nice and hot, lighting Ellie’s tanned skin in glorious amber shades. Her cheeks were smooth, her dark eyes dazzling but distant, her soft mouth with lips lightly parted. Ellie was gorgeous and all his. And only his. They lay feet to head, her long brown legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, her pretty feet at his shoulder. He hung one of his legs off the hammock.

Her brow crinkled a moment, and he wondered what she was thinking about. Her eyes traveled to his. She said, “He’d expect all kinds of things, and I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Who would? What kind of girl?”

She said, “Hemi.”

His heart sped up. He said, “Hemi would… Sorry, what?”

She said, “Hemi would expect all kinds of, you know… things.”

He swallowed, studying her more, his curious wife surprising him with something wild, her head lolling on a huge pillow, regarding him through calm eyes. Like what she’d just said wasn’t the craziest thing in the world to say. He nodded twice, like he was considering the statement. “And you’re not that kind of girl.”

She shook her head no with serious intent. She was not that kind of girl.

He licked his lower lip, hating the physical effect her statement had on him. He brought his leg up from its dangle and crossed them over like her, his feet above her head and under her big pillow. “You kind of were the other day, out in the woods.”

She smiled wide and bashful and looked away. “That was fun.”

“So, there you go,” he said, reaching over the side of the hammock and drawing up his highball glass with the crushed-ice coconut mojito and took a long contemplative sip from the bamboo straw.

Ellie said, “Yeah, but he’d expect like other stuff.”

He set his glass down and coughed into his fist, pretending it was just too cold for him and not because of her engagement with his teasing ploy. “He would? Like what?”

“Weird stuff,” she said and crinkled her nose. “Mouth stuff.”

“Mouth stuff?”

“Yeah, he’d want that.”

He agreed. “He’d want that.” His voice had gone dry and croaky despite the mojito.

“Great,” she said, exasperated. “I don’t even know how to do that.”

Now he was sure she was joking, too. He said, “You do it. You’ve done it.”

“I’m not very good, though. I don’t think so. It makes me self-conscious and… I don’t think I have that kind of moxie.”

“Moxie?”

“You know what moxie is, Danny. Don’t make fun of me.”

She was putting him on; he was sure of it. It didn’t slow his heart rate—which was definitely galloping now. “I think you have plenty of moxie. And when you’ve done it…”

“When I’ve done it… what?”

“When you’ve done it… it was good.”

Ellie raised a brow and showed an uneasy expression, pulling her mouth corners down and showing her perfect teeth. “Just good?”

He chuckled and groaned, said, “You know what I’m saying, Ellie.”

Ellie sat up and stretched her arms over her head. No bra. Her large breasts supported like perfect teardrops in the light cotton bustier of her summer dress. When her arms came down, her eyes moved from the horizon and the lake and down between his legs. Her hands came together to work his shorts open.