Chapter Eleven

“What are you doing?”

“Moving in.”

Tabby stumbled to a halt, a palm against the log timbers the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the ground.

“Why?”

The look he sent her said her connections were a little slow.

“I’m co-guardian of the babies, and since you have the babies, my job implies sticking to you like glue.”

He winked, and heat flushed her body.

Breaking free of his mesmerizing gaze, she shook her head. “That’s nonsense. Plenty of co-guardians, in fact, I feel confident that all co-guardians, unless they’re already married, do not need to live with one another.”

He crossed his arms. “Then they sound like they’re shirking their duties.”

She took in his stance. The long, sleek, and tense lines. The jutted chin. Fired-up gaze. He was daring her to argue. Daring her to supersede his authority, because he fully believed he was in the right. She knew the battle, if not a losing one, would leave them both battered and bruised, and for the sake of the little ones tossing around inside her, she chose a strategic retreat.

“Fine. Make yourself at home.”

She marched up the steps and down the hall, grinning from ear to ear. The stunned expression on Eli’s face was worth all the trouble he’d brought to their collective doorstep today. Once she was safely inside her bedroom, she allowed the emotions to wrangle themselves free. Fear was dominant, along with anger at his presumption, no matter how much he thought he was in the right. She should have known something like this would happen. Been prepared for it.

Eli controlled things. He’d taken charge.

Tabby laughed. Oh, he’d played his hand perfectly. Kept his distance at first, never doing anything overbearing or overt. She’d let her guard down, and then he’d swooped in, wearing his typical protector cape. Everything about this move was why she’d sought to keep the pregnancy a secret from him until he left.

Although lately it had been more about proving to herself that she could do this without his support. Not the babies so much as the business. Although the two seemed intertwined at the moment.

Of course, that was before he actually had guardian attached to his name. But regardless, she knew he wore the take-charge-because-I-know-what’s-best attitude like a tailor-made suit.

The bed beckoned, and she curled up on the handmade quilt, the new body pillow Becky had given her wrapped around her like a comforting friend. Closing her eyes, she tried to remove all the emotion tangled up in the name Eli Ellis and approach this hurdle like any other one she’d jumped over.

Fact: he was protective and thought the best way to protect her was under her roof. So that meant showing him she was fine until she’d beat it into that thick alpha head of his.

Fact: he would leave eventually. Even if he said he was sticking around, which he hadn’t, his time in Gatlinburg was finite. He had no house, no permanent residence other than The Lodge, which was probably why moving in here came so easily. He needed to be focused on a project for true happiness. Passion radiated off him about his next shoot, and even if he was on a breather, that passion would drive him to his next assignment. He hadn’t spent the last decade creating a new life separate from Ellis Industries just to give it up now—for her.

So strategically, letting him stay and proving to him that she was fine, that she was handling everything like she always did, with broad shoulders and a strong back, would hopefully hasten his departure. She could keep the emotions tucked away, allow him this time to be the guardian he apparently wanted to be, and then when he left, things would be okay between them. Nothing lingering. Two friends who happened to have seen each other naked once.

Yeah right. I think you took that one a little too far.

Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t feel that way, but he would. And that was what mattered. Her feelings were not the point here. She couldn’t control them, and since they were wasted on a man who could never be hers, she needed to find a way to shred those suckers up and reshape them into something more useful.

Her phone oinked, and she swiped to see a message from Sam.

Do I need to come evict my brother?

Good ole’ Sam. Protective in his own, less overbearing way.

No. At least not yet. Letting him think he won this round, but the skirmish has just begun.

That’s a Brodie if I ever heard one.

A couple duck quacks and Tabby groaned. Her life had become one email chain after another. It was by far the worst part in taking over the reins of the distillery. People wanted Skype meetings or chats or God-knew-what-else, and Maisie had been working on a select contract with boutique hotels to serve only Brodie Whiskey. She’d have to haul her pregnant ass out there, and she still dreaded it and the whole slew of meetings on the plate.

Adjusting the pillow between her knees, she sighed. “At least I have you, buddy. You’ll keep me sane, won’t you?” The pillow of course didn’t answer, but Tabby could feel the connection growing between them. Soon one might not know where she ended and the pillow began.

…

Eli paced around the living room, a whiskey in his hand. That had gone way too easy. No argument. No hands in the air followed by a display of frustration. Just a simple welcome and poof, she disappeared.

Was she sick? Maybe he should check? She could have low blood sugar or circulation issues. He certainly wasn’t going to broadcast all the research he’d done in the past week, but he was the king of researching a topic ’til he knew it inside and out. That was part of the reason he was so good at his job. Not that Tabby was another job. But he approached her the same way he approached everything in his life: with full knowledge and a strategic plan. Which was why he knew his course was the right one. You couldn’t argue with facts.

And emotion? Can I argue with that?

He downed the whiskey, ignoring his conscience and the several text messages he’d received from his brother Sam. Why was everyone concerned that he would hurt Tabby? No one seemed to believe he could help her, that his presence was a good thing, not some lingering black cloud over her. Did no one think he was engaged? That maybe he cared for these babies with the same heart and soul as anyone else?

Rubbing his hands across his face, Eli sighed. He knew his record, that staying hadn’t been in his playbook. But people could change. Especially if the change came from within and was the result of a new reason. A new goal. Could he change? Could he stay forever? Was Tabby better off with him than without? Was she his new passion? Could he keep his career and just be based in Gatlinburg?

Setting the tumbler on the mantelpiece, he took the stairs two at a time and came up short at her door. Normally, he would walk right in. They’d never had secrets from one another except maybe their bodies, and even that had changed the night at the wedding. But this was her space, her home, and even if he’d barged into it and declared it his space as well, that didn’t mean he shouldn’t respect boundaries.

Two short knocks and he swore he heard a sigh.

“Come in.”

He opened the door to see Tabby practically making love to a pillow.

“Should I leave you two alone?”

She smiled and faced him. “It might be best. Pillsbury here has given me everything I could ever want.”

“Pillsbury?”

She rubbed her hand down the part between her legs. “He looks a little doughy, don’t ya think?”

Eli nodded, lost in the stroking movement. Lucky damn doughboy.

“Did you need something?”

He shook his head. “Just making sure you’re okay. I mean, you made things pretty easy downstairs. Should I do a blood sugar test or something?”

Tabby sat up. “I’m not diabetic.”

He crossed over and sat on the bed, ignoring her scent of lemon and vanilla, which wafted up from the sheets. “I know that but—”

“I don’t argue with you over everything. I never have.”

“I know.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But you have since I came back.”

“So you moved in here to start an argument?”

“Well, no.”

“Then I don’t understand the problem.”

Eli glanced around the room, embarrassment creeping onto his limbs. “I guess there isn’t one.”

Shifting to sit beside him, her thighs heavy against his, Tabby sighed. “I mean, I really don’t think it’s necessary, but if it gives you peace of mind, what’s mine is yours.”

She dropped a kiss on his cheek and hopped up, leaving him patronized and aroused. A shitty combination.

He found her in the kitchen, pulling stuff out of the fridge. She glanced over her shoulder. “You hungry?”

Eli nodded, still wary of the emotions she flung his way, or rather stirred up inside. He didn’t want to be dismissed. He was here for her much more than himself.

Am I so sure?

She treated him like a friend, a brother, and he didn’t like it. When had her friendship been a source of discontent?

When I decided it wasn’t enough.

Where the hell had that come from? This wasn’t permanent. He knew that, right?

Something quacked, and she cursed.

“A pet you need to introduce me to?”

She dropped her armful of meats and cheeses on the counter and reached into her back pocket. “No, just another email in an endless chain of emails.” She keyed something in and looked up. “Remember how we used to joke about the meetings to discuss the meetings?” She thrust her phone at him. “Now it’s emails to talk about the emails that we need to discuss the emails.” She dropped her phone into a basket of fruit and spun around.

“I can help, you know.”

She snorted and continued amassing food. He waited, his narrowed gaze focused on her back. She finally glanced back and froze. “Oh, you were serious?”

Crossing his arms, he nodded.

“But this is business.”

“So?”

“You hate business.”

It was so matter of fact. So simple. Her conviction so strong. Hadn’t he helped her over the years? Been a sounding board? Why would wanting to help her now be so downright shocking?

“I run a business, Tabby.”

She waved her hand and turned around. “Well, that’s your passion. You don’t think of it as a business. This is the stuff you hate. That you ran from.”

She sucked in a harsh breath, her truth as she apparently believed, lingering in the charged silence in the room. Tabby moved fast, coming up beside him, laying her hand on his still crossed forearm. “I didn’t mean it like that. Not running away. I mean you struck out on your own. Created something you wanted.”

“And left my family to deal with the business? Is that what you really think of me?”

“Eli, no.” She placed a warm palm against his stubbled cheek. “I admire you. You know that. I know how you feel about the family business, because I feel that way, too. I carved my own way just like you.”

He longed to throw her hand off. To find a punching bag and pummel every ounce of guilt rising up his throat. Because even though he knew she believed what she told him, her words had opened a guilt mound he’d carried around since hearing of the death of his father and brother.

“But you did so by staying around.”

Now both hands cradled his face, forcing him to meet her hard blue gaze. “You found your passion, just like I did. Only mine happened to be here. Yours took you where you needed to be. You soared out there. Can you say the same would have been true if you’d stayed here?”

He unfolded his arms and placed his hands on top of hers. “I don’t know,” he whispered. It was a heavy confession, and Tabby, true to form, didn’t wave it away. She searched his eyes, and slowly, as if every centimeter was an internal argument, she rose up on her toes and brought their lips together. It was the first time, since the night of the wedding, she’d initiated anything. It was simple, sweet, everything a partner would provide in a moment of comfort. Nothing too sexual or inviting. Pure connection, an I-know-exactly-what-you-need gesture.

He kept the kiss light, let her lead, willing to show her that despite the fact he was confident in all his decisions, he could be a partner. That he believed in her strength and capabilities, and he was more of an amplifier to her strength than a burden.

She ended the kiss, lowering her heels, and a blush spread instantly across her porcelain cheeks. He placed a finger against lips he felt sure were about to apologize. Her eyes widened.

“Don’t say it.”

She smiled under his fingertip, and he returned the gesture and stepped back, allowing the wall of heat, no matter how simple and sweet, to dissipate.

When she made no move to go, he nodded toward the kitchen. “I believe you were about to feed me.”

She shook her head and turned, her curvaceous bottom swaying away and around the island. “I suppose southern hospitality dictates it.”

“Do you care which room I take?” Maybe yours?

“No. Either guest is fine. They’re both furnished.”

He told himself it was stupid to be disappointed. They weren’t married; hell, they weren’t even a couple. They were co-guardians who had carnal knowledge of each other. But some naive little giddy part of himself said, Wouldn’t it be fun if she wanted it to be that way? Kicking that giddy shit in the butt, he grabbed his two bags off the couch and went up the stairs. Just to prove he wasn’t going to moon over her and her sweet lips, he chose the guest room farthest from hers. Now there was a whopping twenty extra feet between them and two more walls.

He crossed the threshold and took in the simple jeweled tones. The dark wood bed was covered in a ruby blanket, the walls painted a deep gold with navy accents. Nothing overtly feminine or frilly. He dropped his camera bag on the wingback chair done in a simple leaf pattern that reminded him of the ferns he’d seen in Australia and crossed to the closet. The door slid open just as the bedroom door banged against the wall.

“Eli, maybe you—”

She stood frozen, one hand on the door, one on the frame, staring at him. His confusion was evident until he looked back at the closet and saw three racks of baby clothes lined up in marching order. Boy’s and girl’s in every color and possible size. In typical Tabby fashion, she must have planned for every contingency, leaving no surprises.

He turned and faced her with crossed arms. Her eyes darted between him and the closet as she picked at the hem of her shirt. Pink cheeks broadcasted her embarrassment. In that moment of her uncertainty, all he wanted was to wrap her up in his arms and tell her how very adorable her planning was. To drop kisses on her cheeks and make her see that he was an available support. That she wouldn’t lose anything of what made her perfect by leaning on him.

But his uncertainty ruled, and instead he asked, “Did you leave any for the rest of us?”

She took a tentative step into the room and shrugged.

“Can I at least handle the sports apparel?”

She smiled. “Depends on what colors you plan on dressing them in.”

“Orange, gray, and white all the way.” He pumped his fist in the air. “Go Vols.”

Her gaze focused on the rug. “So you don’t think I’m silly?”

Eli crossed swiftly to her. “No, I think you’re being exactly what I would expect Tabitha Brodie to be. A planner.” She looked up and punched him.

He caught her hand. “Just remember you do have another set of hands, shoulders, and wallet to help you.”

She stared at their joined hands and nodded. Something in his chest rearranged and locked into place, and Eli knew at that moment, leaving might never be an option. Maybe the question wasn’t if Tabby was better off with him than without. Perhaps the better question to ask…was he better off with Tabby than without?