Chapter Forty-Three
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
EMMETT
S omething about what Dustin Bennett said didn’t sit right with me, and I’d been mulling it over for the past few hours.
How long has he been in town?
And why hadn’t I seen him before now?
But all that did was give me a headache. The only connections between the youngest Bennett and the files that sat in front of me were the farmhouse and the fact he now lived in Bozeman—the same city as Roxy Sanders.
Neither of those things were much to go off of.
I still wrote his name down on the notepad in front of me, right below Frank’s—which I crossed out in pencil. The old man might have an alibi for the night of Millie’s home invasion, but what about the rest of these?
I’d turned my dad’s easy chair and the small table beside it into a makeshift desk though most of the files were opened and spread out on the floor at my feet.
Peering down at the files, Roxy Sanders’s mugshot lay among the smiling faces of Molly Maxwell, Chance Montgomery, Jeremy Bolten, and Paul Anderson. Their faces staring back at me had determination settling into my bones, intertwining with the very marrow. I would find answers and make sure justice was served.
The sun had lowered in the sky by the time I finished for the day. My stomach growled as the smell of tomatoes and garlic seeped into the room through the door I left cracked just in case Millie needed me.
She hadn’t. Which had conflicting emotions warring inside my chest—pride that she recovered from her earlier panic attack and our run in with Frank yet disappointment that she hadn’t needed me at all since.
I rolled my eyes at my own neediness—having gone from needing no one to being desperate for Millie’s attention and affection in such a short time.
For fuck’s sake .
We haven’t even shared a proper kiss.
Could I be anymore gone for this woman?
Closing the files, I stood and stretched. Placing a hand on the back of the worn chair, I stared out at the view for a moment. The sun disappearing behind the mountain range made the sky appear burnt orange with a sprinkling of stars already starting to poke through.
Streaks of red materialized after a while—the shade reminding me of the woman who was likely making a mess of my kitchen. Smiling, I went in search of her. Following the pleasant aroma, I found Millie at the sink—attempting to drain spaghetti noodles. She struggled, her sling and injury preventing her from raising her arm as high as she needed to.
“Here, let me do that,” I called out as I closed the distance between us. “You stir whatever that is on the stove that smells so damn good.”
She beamed at me over her shoulder before handing me the pot.
“It’s just spaghetti and garlic bread,” she said shyly.
“Well it had my stomach growling from the other end of the house,” I proclaimed which earned me another smile. This one hit me square in the chest, knocking the breath from my lungs .
I turned to the sink, draining the pasta while working to pull myself together.
We worked in silence, the air charged and potent around us.
“How about dinner on the patio?” I suggested as she bent to remove the bread from the oven—her ass momentarily stealing my attention.
The weather was consistently warmer now, and if the sky earlier was any indication, we’d be in for a star-filled night.
“That sounds nice,” Millie said as she plated the steaming noodles then layered them with the sauce she’d been stirring. “Rory brought over a bottle of wine the other day that should pair well. I’ll grab it.”
“Perfect,” I said as I picked up the two plates she prepared. Following behind me with two glasses and said bottle, we descended the stairs.
I noticed Millie’s open laptop sitting on the sectional as we passed. “Were you able to get any work done?” I asked out of curiosity. I had never been able to work down here—the space was too cozy.
“Not really.” Millie blushed. “I fell asleep on the sectional watching reruns of Beachside Bargain Buy.”
“I get it,” I admitted as we made our way onto the patio. “It’s the same for me which is why I worked in my bedroom earlier.” I’d been considering turning the downstairs guest room into an office before Millie came to occupy it. And thank fuck I hadn’t.
Setting our plates down, I grabbed the wine bottle and uncorked it while Millie took a seat on the bench I built last spring.
“I can’t believe you did all of this yourself,” she said, admiring the space I put blood, sweat, and tears into.
After my dad’s death, I’d spent a majority of my time keeping my mind and hands busy—taking on this project as well as my home gym. It felt good when I finished, but I’d never truly appreciated this space. Until now. And sharing it with Millie while having her praise my hard work was such a damn turn on.
I swore off projects, but maybe I would tackle a few more after all.
Perhaps I’ll start with Lookout Loft.
The food was great.
The conversation better.
We laughed and sipped on the wine that did in fact pair well with the pasta. I’d have to ask Rory where she picked it up from. Millie seemed to like it, so I’d definitely be buying more.
We continued to sit long after our plates were empty, neither of us eager to go inside. I caught her staring longingly at the hot tub, “Want to take a dip?” I asked jokingly, but a part of me was hoping she’d agree.
“Yes!” she started excitedly then groaned. “But I don’t have a suit.”
“I don’t mind.” I smirked coyly. The idea taking shape had me adjusting my jeans as my dick perked up at the image I conjured of Millie in my hot tub. I didn’t care if she was in a swimsuit, her underwear, or nothing at all.
Raising an eyebrow, she looked from me to the hot tub. It seemed as if she was seriously considering it so I doubled down. Standing, I reached behind my back, grabbed a fist full of the shirt I had on, then pulled it up and over my head. Standing there in nothing but jeans, I watched as Millie’s gaze roamed my body. And I fucking preened when her pupils dilated.
She bit her bottom lip which made my dick jump. If she didn’t quit, I’d be coming in my pants soon. And I couldn’t have that. So I took a few steps backward, continuing to watch her as I went. Finally I spun, walking the rest of the way to the hot tub.
Dropping my jeans in one fluid motion, I stepped into the warm water. Backing up to a bubbling jet, I lounged against it while bringing my arms up to rest on the lip. Peering through the steam, my eyes met Millie’s.
She gently removed her sling before grabbing the bottle of wine. Sauntering closer, her eyes never left mine. My heart beat in rhythm with her steps—the blood in my veins as electric as a live wire.
Bumping her hip against the outer wall, she placed the bottle on the ledge. Her cardigan fell off one shoulder as she brought an elbow up—resting it there beside the wine before dropping her chin into the palm of her upturned hand.
“Water warm?” she asked lazily, her tongue peeking out to wet those sinful lips.
“Why don’t you join me and find out?” I dared, watching as she contemplated it.
Finally, she nodded her head. Slipping her injured arm from the cardigan, she stood in front of me in a white cropped tank top and leggings.
Fuck, I hoped she planned to take those off.
The top went first, revealing pink lace that hugged her breasts in a way that made me jealous. They were ample and spilled over the tops of the flimsy fabric, and I nearly let out a moan at the thought of getting my hands on them. Mouth, too.
My painfully hard dick stood to further attention, pressing against my boxer briefs, as I watched her bend at the waist to remove her leggings. The way she peeled them off her lithe body had me panting.
There was a matching pink lace thong sitting high on her hips, and it looked like something I could easily rip off.
My eyes were glued to her as she climbed the steps. Transfixed, I watched as her perfect curves disappeared under the surface of the water.
Once she was comfortable, a contented sigh slipped from between her lips, and my dick twitched at the scene unfolding.
She reached for the bottle of wine, taking a sip then offering it to me. The idea of my mouth touching where hers just was sent a bolt of white hot electricity through me, but I wanted all my wits about me for this next conversation.
“You probably don’t remember this, and that’s all right,” I said. “But a few days before the incident at the farmhouse, you stayed here with me,” I paused, thinking back on the night and how she felt laying against me. Perfectly—like she was meant to be there, by my side. “And we slept together,” I stopped when her eyebrows shot up. “Nothing happened. Just sleep,” I clarified, and her expression evened out.
“But right before you fell asleep, you asked me what we were doing. And I told you I didn’t know,” I continued even as she dropped my gaze to stare down at the bubbling water. “I need you to ask me again,” I said with conviction.
She took a deep breath before giving me those beautiful blues. And when her mouth opened, she repeated my words back to me in a siren’s song.
“Emmett,” she whispered. “What are we doing?”
“This,” I said as I moved. My hands reached under the water to grip the thin fabric at her hips. Our bodies created waves as I used the pink lace like handles, pulling her on top of me. Her hands slapped my chest, and our noses brushed. Close enough for me to spy the water droplets that collected in her lashes.
I could see the same fire I felt reflecting back at me through her eyes.
So I dove. Our lips met once then twice before I was tilting my head and devouring her mouth. Her hands slid up until they were on my shoulders, behind my neck, in my hair. Everywhere. I could feel her in every fiber of my being.
Fuck, I hadn’t been living before now. Before her. Before this fucking kiss. I held her tightly against me, our wet bodies coming together in the most tantalizing way. She ground down on my lap, and I thrusted up against her.
She gripped my shoulders, fingernails digging in as she started to move back and forth on my dick. Breaking our kiss, “That’s it, honey,” I praised. Her head fell back, eyes pointed to the sky as she rode. “Take what you need, Millie,” I encouraged as her movements became erratic.
“Please,” she moaned, the word full of need. As my fingertips skirted her hip, her forehead fell to mine. I kissed her again then nipped at her pouty lower lip.
“I’ll give you anything. I’ll give you everything. Everything you want and need,” I promised. “Because you’re mine.”
She moaned again in response, but I wanted more. I needed more. I needed her to understand what she meant to me and what that meant for us moving forward.
“Now tell me—does that answer your question?” I growled as I slid the lace at her center out of my way.
Then my fingertips landed on the bundle of nerves I knew would have her seeing stars a thousand times brighter than those lighting up the Montana sky above us.