Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
MILO
T he porch door clicks shut behind us. Her hand is still in mine.
She turns, and the porch light creates a fiery halo around her hair. I swear I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Then her mouth finds mine again, her kiss hungry and demanding.
Marilee stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck. My hands find her waist, and I pull her soft curves against my body. She melts into me like she’s been longing for me the way I’ve been longing for her.
The taste of bourbon is on her tongue as our kiss deepens. Her fingers slide into my hair, pulling me down, pulling me closer.
My hands slip lower, then higher, exploring. I slide my hands under her tank top, and I groan as my fingers caress the bare skin of her back. She gasps into my mouth as she arches her body into mine, and the sound sends a jolt straight to my cock. All I can think about is getting her into bed.
We stumble toward the bedroom, our hands and mouths never leaving each other. She grabs the front of my shirt, and her fingers work quickly, popping open the buttons. She gets three undone before she gets impatient and pushes the rest apart, scattering the buttons across the floor. She presses her hands to my chest, eagerly stroking and exploring my body.
Her face is focused as she touches my body, and something deep inside me thrums as I watch her eyes widen, and she bites her lip as she takes in my muscles and scars.
She’s not turned off by my scars but traces them lightly with her fingers. Fuck. I’ve been so scared they’d scare her away, but…she’s touching them with respect, desire still blazing in her green eyes. She looks like she wants this just as much as I do.
God, I hope she does.
She walks me back, step by step, toward the bedroom. I let her. I follow like I’ve never followed anyone. She turns halfway down the hall and presses her mouth to my jaw. Her teeth scrape below my ear.
My legs go weak.
I pull her closer, my hand on her lower back. Her tank top rides up again. My thumb brushes the waistband of her jeans. She shivers, her breath catching as her green eyes meet mine.
She opens the bedroom door without looking, and we stumble in. We stop at the edge of the bed.
A moment of shyness overtakes Marilee as she reaches for the hem of her shirt. I reach for her hand. “Let me.”
She drops her hands. I tug the fabric up slowly, brushing her skin as I go. She lifts her arms. I pull it off and drop it on the floor. She stands there, bare from the waist up, chest rising and falling. Her skin is smooth, golden in the dim light.
I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful as Marilee. Her silky skin, her heavy curves, the freckles that look like constellations on her skin, her fiery red hair.
She reaches for my shirt next and pulls it up over my head.
That’s when it happens.
My body is still screaming to claim Marilee’s. To finish what we’ve started. Every inch of me aches to keep going. To fall forward into the fire we started and let it burn.
But I can’t.
I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. But she doesn’t know what she’s really asking for. She only has a finite amount of time to give me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. My voice is raw. “It’s not you. I—can we slow down?”
She nods, but confusion and pain fill her eyes. Fuck. I don’t know how to convince her that she’s perfect, and it’s me who’s broken. She’s so fucking beautiful and amazing, and I’m…not. The voice in my head that says she’s too good for me is one I can’t stop hearing.
Her green eyes search mine. Her lips part, then close again.
I want to tell her that this has never happened before. That she’s the only person I’ve ever let this close. That she’s under my skin in a way that terrifies me. That I’m not rejecting her—I’m afraid I don’t deserve her.
But the words get stuck.
I look away.
She steps back and hesitates. Finally, she says, “I’m sorry. I misread the situation,” wrapping her arms around her. “It won’t happen again.”
She picks up her tank top and holds it over her chest, then grabs some clothing and walks out of the bedroom, silent. She doesn’t give me time to say anything. I don’t even know what I could say.
I stand there, half-naked. Dark and profound self-loathing claws at me, laughing at me for thinking a woman like Marilee could be a part of my life.
I’ve fucked things up.
She didn’t slam the door when she left, but I heard her car leave. The silence of her departure was worse than if she had been screaming and throwing things. Her silence felt more…final. And the idea I had one shot and blew it, no chance for a do-over or try to talk to her? I feel like the shittiest motherfucker to walk the face of the earth.
I close my eyes and try to slow everything down, but the moment replays in sharper detail. Her flushed cheeks. Her kiss-swollen lips. The warmth of her hands as she peeled my shirt open, fingers brushing scars she hadn’t seen yet. And then—her face when I stepped back. The confusion. The pain.
My mouth had opened. No words came out.
Now it’s too late. I’m such a damn idiot.
I should have gone after her. Should’ve said something. Anything. But I didn’t—couldn’t—move.
Instead, I walk to the kitchen and grab the half-empty bottle of bourbon. I twist the cap off and don’t bother with a glass. My bare feet carry me through the cabin and out to the hammock. I step out the back door into the night air, letting it hit me full in the face.
I cross the yard to the hammock and ease into it with a long, exhausted breath. The bourbon burns as it goes down. It doesn’t help, but I drink anyway.
She was supposed to be a temporary roommate. Not ideal, but I’d told Hank he could rent the place. When I arrived, my anger was from surprise and having had a long, tiring journey home. I don’t know any man who’d be mad at finding a sexy woman like Marilee in their bed.
I remember thinking that the first night I found her in the cabin, standing there with wide eyes and fire in her voice. I wanted her gone. Wanted my space back, my routine, my quiet.
And then she fought to stay. It shouldn’t have been difficult—and it wasn’t. I got used to her being here faster than I ever would have imagined possible.
She made it feel like a home.
I take another long drink and close my eyes, letting the ache roll through me. It’s not just the sexual frustration. It’s not just her body that I want.
Regret twists raw in my chest, not letting me forget I might’ve lost the best thing that’s happened to me in years.
But when it got real, I panicked. I couldn’t follow her into that space. Not without risking everything. Not without showing her all the broken, wrecked parts of me that I’ve kept hidden.
The fear of being seen as irredeemably damaged has ruled me for years. Tonight, it made me pull away – even after Marilee wasn’t scared when she saw the scars.
I stare up through the tree branches, watching the stars blur at the edges. I drink again, hoping the heat will smooth out the sharp edges in my chest.
I keep telling myself I did the right thing. One week from now, she’ll pack her bags and drive down the mountain, like she was always meant to do. Back to her life.
Letting it go too far would’ve only made it worse. Right?
But then I remember the way she touched me. How she traced my scars with curiosity and respect, not fear or disgust. Like she accepted me for all of me, regardless of my past injuries.
The breeze lifts through the trees again. I pull the blanket up over my chest, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to warm me. The cabin behind me is dark, except for the porch light. I have no idea where she went, but I hope she comes back.
I thought I wanted space. I thought everything moved too fast, but now I realize my mind wasn’t moving fast enough. Marilee was showing me how much she wanted me, but I let my fears overwhelm me despite having the sexiest and most beautiful woman in the world in my arms.
And I fucking blew it.