Chapter 11 Maisey
MAISEY
“I can’t show up empty-handed to Sunday dinner!”
The wave of panic grows as I pace around Ewan’s kitchen, opening and closing the cabinets in search of something I can throw together. But it’s Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard up in here. I know he was out of town for a good portion of this week, but damn.
I maybe should have realized this last night. But I was too caught up in listening to Ewan’s stories from the trip to focus on anything else. To the point where I fell asleep on the couch and had to be carried to bed.
“Except, you can?” Ewan replies sleepily, stretching as he pads into the kitchen from the bathroom. “The rest of us do.”
I huff out an exaggerated sigh, whipping around to bring him into my meltdown, needing him to understand the thought process that has me up and going a million miles an hour this morning, but the sight of him stops me dead in my tracks.
He didn’t bother to put on a shirt, showing off his bare chest, the smattering of light hair across his pecs almost shimmering in the overhead kitchen lights, while his pajama pants hang low on his hips, more of that light blonde hair trailing south.
My mouth goes dry, the ability to think completely disappearing from my skillset.
I know I slept next to this magnificence last night, but seeing it on display like this first thing in the morning is something else entirely.
Stepping into me, Ewan places his hands on my hips, kissing me softly, letting it linger, like this is our every Sunday morning.
A lazy morning of sleeping in after staying up too late the night before doing God knows what and then hanging out in our pajamas until it’s time to head to Magnolia Manor. A girl could get used to this.
“Maybe you do,” I tell him, easing back from the kiss. He runs his hands up my sides, dipping them under my tank top, the calluses on his hands rough against my skin, sending a shiver through me. Or maybe that’s just Ewan’s touch in general. “But this is my first one as…as…”
I trail off. I said the word the other day in a text, but saying it out loud feels different. Heavier. Official.
“My girlfriend?” Ewan finishes for me, his version of the infamous Hayes smirk taking over.
“Yeah, that.”
I pull away, starting my whirlwind search over again. There’s got to be something in this kitchen that I can whip up. Even if it’s basic. Actually, it’s going to have to be basic based on what I’m seeing. That and it’s already—
Oh shit, it’s noon. How the hell did we sleep until noon?
Oh, that’s right, we were up until the wee hours with Ewan entertaining me with stories from spending three days in the woods with seventh graders.
Still, we have to be there at his parents’ in a couple of hours, and neither of us have showered.
I should have taken care of this earlier in the week.
Should have thought of this sooner. This is what I get for never having actually been someone’s girlfriend—my etiquette game is severely lacking.
The women in my family would be horribly disappointed if they were to ever find out.
“Maisey,” Ewan says, his voice deep and rugged, yet soothing in a way that makes my body react instantly. “The wheels in your head are moving way too fast. What’s with the freak-out?”
“I’m not freaking out,” I defend, not bothering to look at him.
Instead, I continue to dig. I pull what I can from the pantry, turning and placing it all out on the large marble countertop of the island that separates the kitchen from the living room.
A jar of peanut butter, powdered sugar, graham crackers, and a bag of chocolate chips—that’s about all I’ve got to work with.
But, it’s enough. Peanut butter bars it is.
“Yes, you are.”
Coming up behind me, Ewan wraps himself around me, burying his face in my neck, nipping at the skin.
I moan, leaning back into him, giving in to his warmth and the feel of him as his hands roam around my front, up under the hem of my tank.
One hand remains still, fingers toying with the top of my sleep shorts, holding me against him while the other heads north, straight for my breast.
Heat flushes through me, anticipation taking over as a callused hand cups my breast, the tip of his fingers circling my nipple.
I let out an involuntary moan, ready for more.
Fingertips continue to circle, my nipple pebbling under his touch.
I arch my back, trying to silently direct him to where I want him.
Then he stops.
“Talk to me, baby.”
I shudder out a sigh, resting my head against his bare chest, letting the safety of his arms surround me for a moment longer. A warm and comforting bubble that I never want to leave.
I spin around to face him, leaning against the counter. “I had lunch with the Hayes women on Friday.”
“You did?”
I nod. “Miss Belle was not kidding when she said we were gonna do lunch while you were away. I thought she meant the two of us, but then I got to Dolly’s and found a table for seven.”
“You were ambushed.”
“I sure was. But it was…” I stare into his beautiful blue eyes, letting myself hold on to them, wishing I could go swimming in that perfect shade.
“It was so much fun. They are the most impressive group of women. And each one of them seems like the perfect counterpart to your brothers. I mean, I knew Hux and Dolly were a great pair; we’ve always known that.
But..like, Margeaux? She might just be the smartest woman I have ever met.
Did you know that she has an MBA and a law degree? ”
Ewan nods, smiling. He leans in, tightening his hands on my hips. “If you only knew how close Gus came to missing out on her. Might be the only woman on this planet willing to put up with his grumpy ass.”
“I knew Brenna had taken over as town pharmacist for Mr. Hovland, but I didn’t realize she’d bought the whole business from him. She’s twenty-seven and a business owner! In my mind she’s still that little tween girl who got all moony-eyed whenever Milo came around.”
“She still gets moony-eyed over Milo. Only now he gets moony-eyed in return, and it’s nauseating. I suggest giving them a wide berth.”
“And Sawyer?” I continue to ramble, ignoring Ewan’s quip about his second oldest brother. “Also scary smart. And quick on her feet. I bet she gives Anton a run for his money.”
“That she does. You’ll get to see it in action this afternoon. It’s more than worth the price of admission, I promise.”
“That price being not showing up empty-handed,” I reiterate, the nerves resurfacing. “It’s rude.”
“The price is you, being you.”
Strong fingers dig into my hips, Ewan’s mouth capturing mine in a hot, hard kiss.
It’s the kind of kiss that fantasies are made of—all fervor and passion, erasing your mind and making you want more.
My limbs move independently from me, toes pushing me up closer to him, while my hands desperately try to hold on to his biceps.
The graze of his teeth along my bottom lip sends me reeling, another involuntary moan escaping as I try even harder to close the already imperceptible distance between us.
“Somehow, I don’t think it’s my sisters-in-law that have you all worked up,” he whispers, kissing along my jaw toward my ear. “Or Sunday dinner.”
“No, right now that would be you.”
“Is that so?” he growls, slipping a hand down the backside of my shorts and palming my ass. “Because I’m pretty sure what I’m doing is calming you down.”
I open my mouth to argue. To tell him no, this is absolutely getting me worked up—and wet—and if he’s not careful, this conversation is going to take a turn, but the graze of his teeth on my earlobe stops me.
His strong hands knead my flesh, and I am putty in his hands.
I’m ready to confess all my sins, including exactly what has me in a tizzy this morning.
Because Ewan’s right. It’s more than simple manners and etiquette for showing up to Sunday dinner.
It’s the shift I felt this week. The unknown thing inside me that woke up one morning and didn’t feel quite as much like the outsider anymore. And that baby step I took to maybe making Hickory Hills home again. To putting my roots back into the ground.
“I-I want this,” I stutter.
Moving his hand from my ass around to my front, Ewan slips it between my legs, running a single finger through my wetness. I shiver, the feel of him there so overwhelming I can barely breathe. And all he did was take a single swipe. Didn’t even get close to my clit.
Holy shit…
“That’s very clear, baby,” he whispers, nipping at my neck.
“No, not this,” I pant, my thoughts trying to catch up. “I mean, yes, this. But, also, the big this. Ketchup pact this.”
Ewan grins—a cheesy, overexcited child on Christmas morning grin—fire flashing in his eyes. His hand moves again, swiping me once more, again avoiding my clit, but still managing to send a rip of pleasure through me. Then, it’s gone.
Hand quickly removed from my shorts, Ewan is holding on to my hips and lifting me up onto the counter in the blink of an eye. I squeak, the movement catching me by surprise. More than that, the new, darker shade of his eyes drives me wild.
“Landon has an opening on his emergency response team, and asked if I’d be interested in filling in for however long I’m in town. I told him yes.”
The words tumble out of me, like dice out of the cup while playing Yahtzee.
I keep my answer simple, same as I did with Landon.
I’m not ready to say the real words out loud yet, even to Ewan.
They’re big and scary and if something changes, I don’t know that either of us can go through that hurt again.
But right now, I know what both my head and my heart are telling me.
I’m not leaving here any time soon…
“Good girl,” Ewan growls, his eyes going even darker, his grip tightening on my hips as he yanks me forward.