Page 4 of Outlaw Heartstrings

With LouCiel’s sweet babbling in her ear and tired requests for just one more story, the meal should have been nearly over before Ellen finally made it to the kitchen.

Pausing in the doorway, she noted the only empty chair was between Liam and Nick, Dolph’s son.

Uncomfortable territory, given how Nick couldn’t seem to understand the word “no,” but Ellen was too hungry to beg off.

Plus, she hadn’t been lying when she told Liam that Marilyn’s cooking wasn’t to be missed.

Before she could take more than a step into the room, Liam was on his feet with an empty plate in hand.

As the conversation continued to flow, bikers focused on replacement motorcycle parts arguing favorite brands for a variety of thing s _ with a grin, Liam pointed her towards the chair he’d just vacated as he began ladling food on the plate.

Puzzled, Ellen took a seat just as he swapped the full plate for the empty one in front of her.

Liam settled into the chair next to her, deftly placing himself between her and Nick.

Marilyn was opposite Ellen at the table, and when Ellen glanced in her direction, she was entirely failing to hide her grin.

Dolph sat at Ricky’s right hand, and he looked just as amused, even more so when Nick audibly grumped, “I was gonna make Ellen a plate.” Which was a blatant lie because not only hadn’t he ever taken that kind of care of her, his normal was more towards asking her to fill his own.

“Thank you, Liam.” Ellen ducked her chin to her throat as she took in the offering before her. “That was really kind of you.”

“I figured you’d be hungry.” The low timbre of her voice rattled her bones, and Ellen clenched down against the sense of emptiness in her chest. “Least I can do for the kindness shown me.”

“Oh, I told you earlier, Ricky wouldn’t let another soul cold camp in this weather if he can help it. It’s no hardship for any of us.”

Liam’s brow furrowed. “Also, Marilyn might have let slip that I’ll be taking your bed tonight. I can roll my bag out on the couch instead, give you back your comfort.”

Ellen didn’t dare glance at her mother-in-law, not sure what expression she’d see this time.

Both Marilyn and Ricky had spent the past year chasing after her to start dating.

Not that they wanted her out of their house, because they’d each separately mentioned whoever she selected as her partner would have to be okay living under their roof.

Ellen would never cut LouCiel off from her grandparents and loved the fact her daughter got to enjoy both of them every day.

Unlike my own parents. “I sleep in the second bed in LouCiel’s room most of the time anyway.

The true guest room doesn’t have its own bath, so it made the most sense. It’s no bother.”

He leaned in closer, and Ellen greedily captured a secretive lungful of his scent. Liam’s eyes widened, and she realized maybe her tiny sniff hadn’t been quite so covert as she’d thought.

He cleared his throat gruffly. “I appreciate it, Ellen.”

The catch in her breathing was entirely automatic at hearing her name on his lips.

Good god, what is wrong with me tonight?

With a tight smile, she nodded and turned her attention to the plate of food he’d prepared for her.

Something a lover or partner would do . Ellen swallowed hard around the first bite, nearly choking at her thoughts.

“Have you lived here long?” Liam’s quiet question startled her, and Ellen looked up to find his gaze trained steadily on her face. “In Grass Creek? Your accent is a little different from Ricky and Marilyn.”

“I grew up in Missouri, but I’ve been up here for eight years.” Five good years with Jerry, gaining her feet as an adult. “I love it here.”

“What’s it like in the other seasons?” Liam’s head tilted to the side, a tiny smile playing along his lips.

“Summertime is sunshine for days with blue sky stretching from horizon to horizon. Long twisty roads with the scent of sweetgrass everywhere. Blooms everywhere in the spring.” She grinned at him. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Sounds like it.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Maybe I’ll have to find out for myself.”

Ellen glanced at Ricky, half expecting to see a disapproving expression, but his face was filled with softness instead. Marilyn cleared her throat, and Ellen looked her way, catching a slow nod of clear approval.

Turning back to Liam, Ellen pulled in a deep breath, gathering her courage. Time to leap. “It’s the kind of place that really needs a tour guide to find all the best spots.”

“You applying for the position?” Liam’s expression turned playful, and Ellen gripped her cutlery tighter to keep her hands from straying.

All the boxes in the pros column.

“Maybe.” She lifted one shoulder slightly. “Depends on the benefits.”

“Oh my God, tell me you didn’t just try to pick up Ricky’s daughter-in-law at his own table.” Nick’s derisive tone scraped along Ellen’s skin, causing her to curl in on herself.

Ricky spoke up before she could say anything. “Not like you haven’t tried the same damn thing, Trashman. Only difference here is—unlike every time you ran up on her in the past two years—I don’t hear her telling Irish no.”

“He’s not even club, man.” Nick, a.k.a. Trashman, shoved back from the table. “It’s disrespectful to Jerry.”

“Pretty sure it’s not.” Ricky’s tone could have frozen a lake. “Also pretty sure if anyone’s in a place to say some shit like that, it’d be me, not a prospect. And I’m not givin’ off that vibe. You feel me, brother?”

Ellen kept her gaze on Liam during the exchange, somehow not surprised to find his remained latched onto her face in kind.

It wasn’t that they were ignoring the words, but that whatever this was happening between them wasn’t going to be derailed by one man’s opinion.

Especially when his opinion didn’t matter to either of them.

“Marilyn, thanks for dinner.” Nick stood and shoved his chair back under the table.

“Excellent as always.” His face appeared between Ellen and Liam, and she pulled back abruptly.

“This isn’t the end, Ellen. You’re supposed to be mine.

” His hissed words were meant for her alone, and Ellen shook her head at him. “Don’t ignore it.”

He was gone before she could compose a response, leaving a swirling mass of emotions in the room.

Dolph sighed heavily. “Sorry about that. Boy got his manners from his mother’s side.

” Ellen tried to smile at his gallows humor, knowing his wife had left when both boys were small and Dolph had raised them alone.

“He’s mostly a good boy.” Wrinkling his nose, he chuckled briefly. “Gets that part from me.”

“No worries, Dolph.” Liam looked away from Ellen and towards the older man, and she realized it was the first time he’d taken his gaze off her since she’d sat down.

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but he’s not a boy.

He’s a grown man, and I’m pretty sure his actions don’t negatively reflect on you. ”

“Kind of you to say.” Dolph acknowledged the words with a deep nod. “Marilyn, mind if I get myself a second helping? I’ve got more questions for Mr. Irish here. That’s one sweet bike, and I want to hear all about it.”

***

Irish

He’d expected trouble as soon as Dolph and his son had arrived.

The younger man had strolled in as if he owned the place, barely greeted Ricky with a lifted chin before puffing his chest out at Irish.

“Name’s Trashman,” he’d declared. “Because I take the trash out.” The implication that Irish would be the next piece of trash so handled wasn’t lost on him.

Not only wasn’t it in Irish’s nature to be immediately antagonistic and reactionary, but he’d never offer that insult to a host in their own house.

So he’d nodded with a gentle smile, one designed to soothe ruffled feathers, and offered his hand with a “Irish, good to meet friends of Ricky.”

During the meal, the asshat had dropped several unsubtle hints that, in his eyes, Ellen was taken.

Given the way she’d responded to Irish during their brief interaction, he knew it was a blatant lie and had quietly planned for her entry.

After feeding her and putting himself in Trashman’s way, Irish had caught both an approving nod from Ricky and a cheeky grin from Marilyn.

Those were green lights if he’d ever seen any and firmed his resolve to press his suit.

Once Trashman had blustered his way out of the room, Irish set about seducing the sweet Ellen.

He offered her bits of meat from his fingers, leaned in and forked himself a bite from the edge of her plate, and ensured their shoulders and arms rubbed together nearly constantly.

The conversation flowed around the table, filled with talk about bikes and bikers, and shared info about different clubs and rallies.

Finally, after an hour or so, Dolph had laughed at a text on his phone and announced to the table that Nick was cold and tired of waiting in the truck.

Pouting, more like it. In the flurry of activity surrounding his leave-taking, he leaned close as he clasped Irish’s hand and said, “She’s a good one.

Be careful with our Ellen,” and the tacit blessing from someone Ricky clearly trusted made Irish’s breath hitch.

“I’ll take care of her, my oath on it.”

A final pounding slap against his back, and Dolph was gone. Within minutes, both Ricky and Marilyn had retired, leaving Irish to clean the kitchen with Ellen.

While the silence between them was comfortable beyond what it should have been after only a few hours of acquaintance, Irish was ready to find out what could come next.

“I hate knowing I’m putting you out of your own bed.” Leaning close, he tapped her shoulder with his chin, resting there for a moment. “Doesn’t feel right, making you sleep elsewhere.”