Chapter 20
Hadley
Something soft and warm presses against my aching cock. I fling my eyes open and am greeted by the world’s lowest ceiling. A sliver of morning sun pierces the world’s tiniest fucking window, making me squint. It takes a moment for me to remember where I am.
A soft moan is followed by movement, rubbing against my morning erection. Unruly dark curls lay splayed across the pillow in front of my face. Maggie is sound asleep. Well, almost . . .
Another little noise escapes her as she jerks. Her ass slams into my cock, sending it painfully hard.
Fuck me.
The fire that flared for her a moment ago ebbs as she lets out a painful cry and her hands turn to fists in the sheet. I brush the hair from her face, hoping the subtle touch will pull her from her dream. Which, by the sounds of it, isn’t pleasant.
“No, Cap. One more minute . . .” Her words are wobbly, as if she’s begging.
Who the hell is Cap?
“Maggie.” I place a hand on her shoulder.
She whines, and her body turns rigid.
“Stop the vehicle,” she murmurs. “Stop, please stop.”
I push up onto my elbow and shake her shoulders. “Maggie!”
She jolts up with a cry, hands hitting out frantically, connecting with my arms, shoulders, and chest. I take her wrists and haul her into my side, sitting us both up. “Hey, you’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”
A sob slips out as she softens against me slightly. “H-Hadley?”
“Yeah, right here.”
Her fingers curl around my biceps. Her racing heart thumps against my own as I drop my face into her dark curls, not wanting to come up for air. When her breathing settles, she crawls into my lap, adjusting herself so she’s more comfortable. I rub her back with my palm in soothing circles.
“You wanna talk about it?” I rasp. The spilled-over emotion from seeing her so distressed has my throat tightened.
“I-I don’t really know how?” she finally says.
“Need me to take your mind off it, then?”
I know what it’s like to get caught up in your own head. Especially that dark place hell-bent on drowning you. That was me in my teenage years. I blamed myself for Dad leaving. I blamed myself for my mother’s mental health.
Now I know it was beyond my control, but try telling that to a teenage boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Can we just stay like this for a while?” she breathes.
“Sure.” I tighten my hold and continue rubbing circles on her back. It’s only when she makes to sit up, I realize I don’t want to let her go. My hardening cock underneath her is not helping matters.
Wriggling to move from my lap, she’s heaven and torture against me all at once. She must feel it, because her gaze snaps up to mine as her lips part.
“Sorry, morning thing,” I rasp.
“Of course.” She doesn’t make an effort to move, her eyes burning into mine.
Instead, her fingers cup my jaw, and she drags my gaze down to her. The memories and heat of the kiss in the lake flood back. Like they ever damn well left. “Maggie . . . I’m so—”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what, beautiful?”
A smile splits her lips as she slides her hands into my hair. Mine grip her waist, and she rocks on my lap as her eyes shutter closed. I tamp back the groan wanting out.
Good morning to you too, Sunshine.
“Apologize,” she rasps.
Fuck . . .
“You and me in a confined space is only going to end one way, Sunshine.”
“Sunshine?”
“You light up every space you walk into. So yeah, Sunshine.”
She chuckles and dusts kisses over my jawline.
Hell, a man could get used to this.
“Well, since I have risen and started your day.” She glances down to where her weight is over my aching cock. “Time for . . . coffee!”
Eyes lit up, she jumps out of my lap and crawls—fucking crawls—over the bunk, unruly dark hair draped around her shoulders, and steps off.
I don’t know what view I prefer, her ass swaying in front of me or the hard nipples now straining against the tank hugging her perfect tits. My mouth waters looking at her.
I flop back onto the mattress with a groan, rubbing my hands over my face.
I mean, coffee sounds great. I love coffee. Huge fan of the liquid of life. But, hell, that is not where my head is at right now.
She pulls the sheet from the bunk, leaving me exposed. “You think the mosquitos have buzzed off?”
I huff a laugh at her lame attempt at a joke and prop my head up with both hands laced underneath. “Absolutely not. We’ll have to stay in here for hours.”
A pillow flies through the air and smacks me right in the face. I chuckle as I grab it and send it back.
I sneak a peek at her and catch a cheeky smile on her face before sliding my hands over my own. What I wouldn’t do for a pillow fight with this woman. One I would fully intend on winning by pinning her the mattress and kissing the hell out of her.
Hearing her getting dressed, I’m knocked from the daydream that has my cock rock-hard again. I roll over and off the bunk. I can only stand bent over in the van, and it’s awkward as hell with a boner.
Jeans fly at me, and I catch them in one hand. I slide them on quickly to conceal the effect she has on me so damn easily.
Maggie leans on the tiny counter. Her gaze tracks over my body like she’s seeing me for the first time.
Is it bad to wish for a plague of mosquitos right now? If there was a way to keep us held up in this tiny haven all day, I’d take it. But it’s not just up to me, and if I have any chance with this incredible woman, it will be on her terms.
“Brady and Spence are probably wondering where you are.”
“Sunshine, they ain’t wonderin’.”
She rolls her lips and dips her gaze to the floor.
“Besides,” I add. “They’re probably long gone by now.”
I nod to the small digital clock on the counter.
10:55
“Oh shit!” She grabs up her bag and pads for the door. Peering through the small window, she lets out a breath. “Can’t see any insects intent on sucking the life source from our veins, but you never know.”
She cracks the door slightly as I pull on my boots and then button up my team shirt. This absolutely looks like I spent the night here to—
“Hadley,” she whisper-shouts, tension racking her body as her hand on the door turns white.
“What is it?”
I’m at her back, craning my neck to see around her a second later.
The instant I see it, I haul her behind me.
Fucking snake.
Coiled right at the door of the van.
If she’d been distracted, she would have stood right on the damn thing. I slam the door shut and turn back to find her staring at it.
She shakes where she stands, one hand still gripping the strap of her bag like she’s holding on for dear life. Her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. “I-I can’t do snakes.”
I cradle her face with both hands. “Hey, you’re okay. I’ll move the van.”
Her gaze flickers to the cab. “How?”
Dotting a kiss to her cheek, I release her and climb over the seats, dropping behind the wheel. I grab for the keys, but the ignition is empty. I turn back. “Maggie, keys?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” She rummages in her bag, pulling them out.
Handing them to me, she grabs a hold of the back of the headrest. I slide the keys into the ignition and fire up the van.
“You okay?” I shift the van into drive.
She nods.
I drive the van away from the curled-up threat and park by the office, on the gravel, far from the grass and shade of the trees. Killing the engine, I hop out and round the van. Opening the door, I find Maggie still holding onto the headrest.
“Come here, Sunshine.”
She hesitates but finally peels her hands from the headrest. As her foot hits the side step, I pick her up and open the passenger door. Placing her on the passenger seat sideways so she’s facing me, I check her over, just in case.
The tremble from a moment ago has settled, mostly.
“It didn’t bite me,” she utters.
My hands still wander over her limbs anyway, double-checking her ankles and calves that were mere inches from the snake. Once satisfied she is untouched—by the danger rope, at least—I hang my head briefly. Fine fingers grip my jaw, tilting my head, pinning my gaze to hers.
“Sorry I freaked out,” she breathes.
I’m shaking my head. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” Her brows fall.
“Apologize, Sunshine.”
A small smile slips over her face. Fuck, the way I want to kiss her in this moment is staggering.
Fast.
Intense.
I take her hands in mine and push them onto the seat behind her, and she leans in. I claim her mouth just as fast as the growl of her stomach has me breaking away, breathless despite the brevity of the kiss.
“Let’s get you fed.” I nudge her neck just below her earlobe with my nose, planting a soft kiss to her neck.
“I’m not hungry, Hadley.”
Her stomach growls in argument.
I chuckle, brushing a rogue strand of dark curls behind her ear. “Sure you are. Come on.”
I slide her legs around to the front of the seat and strap her in.
Her gaze tracks the motions, a curious but happy expression on her face.
Rounding the van, I jump into the driver’s seat.
Glancing behind to double-check we have everything, I fire up the VW and slide on my aviators. “How do you feel about pancakes?”
Pulling her bag from her shoulder and dumping it in the footwell, she looks up. “I adore pancakes.”
“Good to know.”
We head for town. I know exactly the place to take her.
The little diner off the first highway exit is bustling.
The place is a local secret and was one of my favorite spots to eat after the Cold Lake event before the accident.
It feels like an age since I’ve been here.
We walk through the red double doors, and the retro diner is still the same as it was over eighteen months ago.
Red booths over black-and-white checkered floor. The silver counter is flanked by a long row of red upholstered barstools. Currently full.
The wait staff hurry around tending to booths and counter patrons alike. I steer Maggie toward a booth, and she drops into it before I take the seat opposite.
“This is nice.” She plucks up a plastic menu and opens it.
“Nope.” I take the menu from her and toss it to the side of the table.
“I was looking at that!” Her face is lit with mirth tangled with confusion.
“No need.” I raise a hand to indicate we’re ready to order. “I got you.”
A young waitress comes over, pad and pencil in hand already.
“Hey, what can I get ya?” She smiles at Maggie before giving me a somewhat dimmer smile.
I hand her the menus. “Two servings of Sunday pancakes and a pot of coffee, please.”
“Sure thing. Won’t be long.”
Maggie lifts one elegant brow. “An entire pot of coffee?”
“Make up for the unwelcome visitor this morning.”
She shudders. “Don’t remind me. I’m terrified of those things.”
That part I got.
Five minutes later, the fluffiest, most amazing pancakes arrive with all the trimmings in small dishes around the edge of each plate. And as ordered, an entire pot of coffee is set down on the end of our table, followed by two mugs.
“Thank you,” I offer.
The young girl smiles at me before saying, “Enjoy your food.”
Maggie’s gaze tracks over the plate in front of her. “Wow, this looks . . . amazing.”
“They’re only the best pancakes in the entire country.”
“What? How do you know that?”
I point to her towering stack with my fork.
With narrowed playful eyes, she doesn’t take her gaze from me as she cuts a portion off and dips it into the maple syrup. When the pancakes slide over her tongue, surprise catches on her face. Her eyes flutter shut with a heady moan. I can’t help but think two things.
First, these really are the best pancakes in the whole country.
Second, that sweet fucking sound out of this beautiful woman is going to drive me crazy.
Thank fuck for pancake Sundays.