Well Built (Book Boyfriend #3)(59)

Ella hadn't been in the frame of mind three months ago to take Betsy's words to heart or to act on them, but she realized that, yes, she'd catered to her father's behavior-enabled him, even-for way too long.

"So, yes, I'm going to the city to be with Kyle," she reiterated. "And if everything goes the way I'm hoping, I won't be back tonight. Hell, I might not be back all weekend, and William is more than capable of taking care of the store while I'm gone. Have a good night, Dad."

Her father gaped at her as she finished walking to the door, opened it, and stepped out onto the porch. She closed the door behind her and stopped for a moment to just breathe.

"I need my goddamn pills!" Ella heard her father yell from inside the house.

"Charles, you need to calm down and stop being so ornery," Betsy replied in that no-nonsense voice of hers. "Let that girl go live her life and stop meddling in it."



       
         
       
        

The two of them continued to bicker, and Ella laughed softly and shook her head as she made her way to her car, knowing she was leaving her dad in good hands. There was no doubt in her mind that her relationship with her father might be strained for a while, but she also knew he'd never disown her. And maybe, hopefully, given time, he'd come to realize and accept that Kyle was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Feeling as though a hundred-pound weight had been lifted off her shoulders, she got into her car and started the two hour-long drive into the city to get her man.

* * *

Freshly showered and wearing an old, comfortable pair of sweat pants, Kyle sat in an armchair facing the windows overlooking the twinkling lights on Lake Michigan as he took a drink of the Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey he'd poured himself. He wasn't a big drinker. A beer here and there with friends, but knowing he was heading into his first long weekend without Ella, he'd opted for something more fortifying.

Every day this past week, he'd held out hope that he'd hear from her. A phone call. A text. Anything at all to give him some kind of indication that maybe she'd come to the realization that he was worth fighting for. That they were worth fighting for.

That he hadn't royally fucked everything up by walking away from her.

No, as much as he hated the way things had ended between them, he knew he'd done the right thing by leaving, because he couldn't go another three months, or longer, hiding a relationship with Ella. And it didn't even matter that he'd come up with a possible solution to their distance issue. If she didn't stand up to her father and resolve those issues, they had no chance at a future together. End of story. And apparently, end of them.

He downed another gulp of whiskey, welcoming the burn that slid down his throat and settled in his belly. Then he went ahead and finished off the last of the shot. Drowning his sorrows was beginning to sound like a damn fine idea.

He pushed out of his chair to go and refill his glass just as one of the intercoms on the wall buzzed from the doorman downstairs. Kyle couldn't imagine what the guy could want, and he was interrupting Kyle's pity party, but he went ahead and pressed the button and answered with a curt, "Yes?"

"There's an Ella Fisher here to see you," the older gentleman said. "Would you like for me to let her up?"

Kyle frowned. For a moment, he thought he was hearing things. Ella was here, in the city, on a Friday night? Considering her aversion to Chicago, that didn't seem likely . . .

"Sir?" the doorman prompted. "Ms. Fisher said it was important that she speak with you. What would you like me to do?" 

Cautious optimism surged though Kyle, and he replied before Ella took his silence for a no. "Yes, let her up, please."

The line disconnected, and it seemed like it took forever to hear a knock on his door while he paced the entryway. He opened the door, and there she was, looking like the bright ray of sunshine that he called her. A frazzled-looking ray of sunshine, but his nonetheless. He hoped.

"Umm, can I come in?" she asked tentatively.

"Of course." He stepped back and she brushed past him as she walked inside his place and into the living room. He followed behind, and the sweet scent of lemons filled his senses, instinctively stirring his desire for her. Then again, everything about this woman made him feel like a lovesick fool around her.

She turned around to face him. From the dress she had on to her gorgeous hair falling around her shoulders to the blatant fortitude in her eyes as she met his gaze, she looked absolutely stunning wearing all that confidence. It stole his breath and made his heart pound wildly in his chest because of what it could mean.