Chapter 6
six
. . .
STELLA
The first thing I noticed when I woke was the cold. Not the snuggle-deeper-into-the-blankets kind of cold, but the biting chill that came from sleeping alone in a bed that had been warm with another body only hours before on a December morning.
I reached across the mattress to where Cade had lain, my hand finding only cool sheets and the faint impression of his head on the pillow.
I sat up and squinted at the alarm clock on my nightstand—not even six o’clock yet.
As he’d kissed my forehead and slipped out of bed, he’d said something about checking traps before the weather turned—but I’d been half-asleep at the time.
Now, fully awake and annoyingly aware of his absence, I flopped back against my pillows with a huff.
It was fine. We weren’t joined at the hip. We couldn’t stay in bed together forever. He had a job to do. This was normal, healthy, adult behavior.
So why was I so disappointed?
I was just reaching for my phone to distract myself when I heard the unmistakable sound of the side door creaking open downstairs, followed by heavy footsteps on the stairs. Deliberate, unhurried.
My entire body went rigid, my heart slamming against my ribs as I yanked the duvet up over my bare chest and looked around wildly for something I could use as a weapon.
The lamp on my nightstand was too heavy to swing, my phone useless unless I wanted to dial 911 and hope they got here before I was dead.
The footsteps grew louder, closer, and I was just reaching for the lamp anyway when Cade appeared in my doorway, his hair damp and windswept. He held two cups of coffee in a cardboard holder in one hand, a white paper bag in the other.
My body went weak with relief so fast it pissed me off. How dare he scare me like that!
“Morning, baby.” His mouth curved into that easy smile that normally made me weak in the knees as he moved toward the bed. “Brought you breakfast.”
“And scared me half to death in the process,” I snapped, my heart still hammering. I let the blanket drop to my lap, adrenaline making my hands shake. “Fuck, Cade. I thought you were a burglar.”
His smile vanished instantly. “Shit.” He set the coffee and bag down on my nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand coming up to cup my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I should’ve texted. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just, you know …” I blew out a breath, trying to calm my racing pulse. “... lost a few years off my life.”
He waited, his thumb stroking along my cheekbone until my breathing evened out.
“Better?” he asked softly.
“Yeah.” I managed a shaky laugh. “God. I thought I was about to get murdered in my own bed.”
“I’m really sorry.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Better not. For your sake as much as mine—I was about to brain you with a lamp.”
That made him smile. “Noted. No surprise visits.”
I blinked at him, my heart rate finally returning to normal, and I realized he shouldn’t be here, surprise or not. “I thought you were working this morning.”
“I’d planned on it,” he said, standing to shrug out of his jacket and toss it over my reading chair. “Storm’s rolling in like a bitch, though. Not safe to be out on the water.”
I glanced toward the window where I could see freezing rain coating the glass, the world outside gray and hostile.
“So you came back,” I said, something warm unfurling in my chest. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he’d come here to ride out the storm instead of heading home.
“So I came back.” He toed off his boots and socks and peeled off his damp sweater, tossing it to land on top of his jacket. “Figured you might want company.”
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “You just wanna crawl back in bed with me.”
“Fuck yeah, I do.” He was already stripping off his thermal undershirt, revealing the broad expanse of his chest and the trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. “Been thinking about your soft, warm body the whole drive back.”
He shucked off his jeans and kicked them into the corner of the room, leaving him in just his boxer briefs.
I lifted the corner of the duvet in invitation, and he slid in beside me, his skin cool against mine as he pulled me into his arms. I pressed my face into the crook of his neck and inhaled the scent of cold, winter air and coffee and something uniquely him.
“You’re freezing,” I murmured.
“Then warm me up.”
I did, wrapping my arms around him and tangling our legs together until there wasn’t an inch of space between us.
It wasn’t sexual—not yet—though I knew we couldn’t stay that way for long.
We couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other.
Even now, with exhaustion pulling at my bones, I could feel that strange, overwhelming want building low in my belly.
I’d never craved someone like this before.
Never felt this constant pull, this need to touch and be touched.
It was new. Terrifying. And completely addictive.
Cade’s breathing had evened out, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath my cheek. I thought maybe he’d dozed off until his hand slid up to tangle gently in the hair at my nape.
The wind howled against the windows, and somewhere in the distance, I heard the crack of a tree branch giving way under the weight of ice.
A low rumble vibrated against my ribs, and for a second I thought it was thunder—until Cade groaned.
“Wait. That was you?” I asked, pushing up onto my elbows and looking down at him.
“Don’t judge me. I’m a growing boy.”
“Ah, so the breakfast you brought wasn’t because I get hangry.”
“I mean, it wasn’t only because of that.”
I huffed out a laugh. “All right, Murphy. I’ll play. What’s in the bag?”
“Peppermint cinnamon rolls from Dockside. Got the first batch out of the oven.”
“Oh my god. That’s so perfect.”
He grinned up at me. “I know.”
I smacked his chest lightly, but I was smiling. “Cocky bastard.”
“Again, I say: you like it.”
I did. God help me, I really did.
Cade reached over and grabbed the bag, pulling out two enormous cinnamon rolls dripping with cream cheese frosting and little bits of peppermint candy canes.
“Here." He handed me one along with a napkin. “Eat before it gets cold.”
I took a bite and nearly moaned. “Oh my god. This is obscene.”
“Right?” Cade tore off a chunk of his roll and shoved it into his mouth, frosting smearing across the corner of his mouth.
Without thinking, I leaned over and licked it away.
His breath stuttered, and he went completely still, his eyes darkening as they locked onto mine.
“Stella.”
“What?” I licked the last trace of mint and sugar from my lips. “You had frosting on your face.”
“Uh-huh.” His hand came up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “You’re playing a very dangerous game.”
“Who, me?” I fluttered my lashes at him, leaning just a fraction closer. “I’m just eating my breakfast.”
“You’re sitting there naked in a bed that still smells like sex, licking up a sticky white substance, and looking at me like that.” His voice dropped. “Dangerous.”
A hot, insistent ache curled low in my body, my thighs pressing together involuntarily. My nipples hardened, and I watched his gaze drop to my chest, tracking the response of my body to his words.
“Like what?” I asked, my voice coming out high and breathy.
“Like you want me to do very bad things to you.”
I set my cinnamon roll on the nightstand, then I shifted closer, sliding my hand up the firm line of his chest, feeling the way his heart thundered beneath my palm. “Maybe I do.”
Cade chuckled under his breath and caught my nipple between his fingers. Pleasure shot straight through me, and I sucked in a sharp breath. “Eat your breakfast, menace.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, just a brush of his lips against my skin. “You’ll thank me later.”
I huffed and crossed my arms, fully aware I looked petulant and not caring one bit.
“Stella,” he said, sounding far too amused for my liking. “You know I’m right. If you don’t get caffeine in you soon, you’ll bite my head off later. And I happen to like having all my parts intact. Especially since I want you to suck them later.”
A startled laugh punched out of me. “What the fuck, Cade?”
He reached across me, grabbed my abandoned cinnamon roll, and waggled it in front of my face. “Eat. You know you want to.”
I snatched it back with a muttered, “Fine,” and sat up against the headboard, the blanket slipping lower. “But only because you’re forcing me.”
“Sure,” he agreed with a shit-eating grin, settling beside me with his own pastry. “That’s the only reason.”
We ate in easy silence, the cozy kind that didn’t need filling. Every so often, I’d look over and catch him watching me with a soft, warm, loving expression.
I had to look away before I did something stupid like tell him I was falling for him.
Eventually, Cade nudged my knee with his. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”
That tone always put me on alert, but what was I going to say—“Sorry, no more questions, everything has to stay shallow from here on out”? I sucked at relationships, and even I knew that wasn’t going to fly.
I set the half-eaten sweet on my thigh and wiped my hands on the napkin. “Sure.”
He shifted, angling toward me, bracing an elbow on the pillow between us.
“Why brewing? I know you love it, but how’d you get into it in the first place? I don’t think I’ve ever really heard the full story.”
I leaned back against the headboard, letting my head rest there, staring past him at the frost gathering along the window. This wasn’t a story I told often—not because it was painful, exactly, but because it was tied up with a part of my life I’d rather forget.
But this was Cade. And if we were going to be together, he deserved to know.
But first, I needed a barrier. Something to make me feel less vulnerable.
I leaned over and grabbed a discarded t-shirt from the floor, pulling it over my head. Then I turned to face him, sitting cross-legged.