Savage Love (Back Down Devil MC #7)(12)

When Ella looked at the crib again she had a vision of him standing there. His big, strong hands, lifting the babe. Holding the baby tight, soothing the baby the way a real man would. Gently rocking back and forth, the chains hanging off his jeans jangling together. The smell of freedom, musk, man, and sweat. The tattoos, earrings, the wild look in his eyes.

Ella pulled herself to her feet and forced herself out of the room. She felt like slapping herself. What kind of person was she? Fantasizing about someone else taking care of her child? That was as bad as Jerry out f*cking other women, wasn’t it?

“No,” Ella whispered.

Jerry was worse. He was the worst. Even the night of their wedding…

Ella heard a knocking sound from downstairs. Her heart instantly began to race.

They had a doorbell. Why didn’t it ring?

Slowly, she walked down the stairs. She looked around and grabbed the fireplace poker. The fireplace that had never been turned on, not once. Like most of the houses in the development, it was added just for show. Everything was for damn show.

The knocking came again.

“Who is it?” Ella called out.

“Can you open up?” a voice said.

Ella had her hand at the doorknob. She pulled away. “Tell me your name.”

“Ella, please. Darling.”

Darling?

Darling…

Ella unlocked the door and tore it open. It was a bad mistake to do. Anyone could have been waiting there to attack her. Christ, for all she knew with Jerry getting involved with other MC’s, she could have been a target.

Yeah, she was a target alright, or at least her heart was.

And it just got struck.

Ella felt her jaw hit the ground when she saw him standing there at the door.

Taller than ever, his shoulders a mile wide, rounded like wet cut mountains, his rippling arms filling out the short sleeves of a t-shirt. The same ink on his arms, but nothing past his elbows. The chains on his black jeans. The black leather cut with the Back Down Devil name and logo on the breast. Years had aged him well, even more to perfection as it cut him up and turned him from a gorgeous young man to a sexy and built real man.

“Miller,” Ella whispered.

How long has it been since I’ve said that name?

Color flooded Ella’s cheeks, as she was sure one of the last times she whispered it like that, he was deep inside her body.

“What…” Ella lost her breath. She swallowed hard and gently touched her chest. “If you’re looking for…”

“No,” Miller said. “I’m here to see you. To check on you.”

“Check on me?”

Miller grinned. The bad boy sly grin was still hidden behind the toughness of man. “Yes, darling. To check on you.”

“We haven’t… I haven’t…”

“It doesn’t matter. I know things are…” Miller shook his head. “Do you know anything that’s going on?”

Ella stared. Jerry had told her if anyone asked her questions, the best thing was to deny it all. Play stupid. Keep the housewife act going strong.

But this was Miller. Her first true love. The man who took her innocence and gave her a wild spark that was still hidden somewhere inside her.

“He’s not here,” Ella whispered.

“But you are,” Miller said. He stepped forward. “I know you know. That’s okay. He’s doing stuff that…”

“I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“You’re not.”

“The President of a motorcycle club is standing at my door. My hus… Jerry isn’t home. This is middle class living, Miller. You can’t be seen like this.”

“Then invite me in.”

A bold statement.

Ella knew she should have shut the door and apologized. Instead, she backed up and let Miller into her house - and right back into her life.

As he breezed by her, she felt her nose tingling a little, wanting to smell him. That roughness. That wild sense of freedom. That feeling of no fear of anything. Christ, even right now, stepping into the house, that took serious guts to do.

Miller did it.

Ella gently shut the door. She pointed to the kitchen. “Talk in there? The baby is sleeping.”

She watched Miller’s face sink a little. He turned his head and looked at the steps. Never before did Ella think of Miller as a father or a man who would want a family. He was always an outlaw. The kind of guy to fight because he felt like it. The kind of guy to take off and ride because the road called to him. But tonight there was pain in his eyes after hearing the words the baby.

In the kitchen, Ella kept on one side of the island, Miller on the other.

“You want a drink?” she asked.

“No. Thanks. I don’t want anything from this house. From his house.”

Not even me?

Ella looked away.

“I just need to know you’re doing okay here. What Jerry has become…”

“That’s my problem,” Ella said. “Not yours, Miller.”

“Maybe somewhere inside me it is my problem,” Miller said. “Okay?”

“Look at me. I’m right here. Right where I’m supposed to be.”

“Supposed to be? Is that where you want to be?”

Ella felt a little anger rise up. Her feelings of love and hate for Miller had been tangled up for years, usually left in the dark and stranded because they didn’t matter.