158. Courtney
Chapter 158
Courtney
Three days.
Sterling has been gone for three days with one of the groups, without a goodbye.
Without so much as telling me he was going.
I wouldn’t have even known they were coming back today if it wasn’t for Cook.
Yeah, I could have texted Sterling myself. I have his number.
But he has my number too.
And he’s the one who left.
The windows on the front of the Storage Shed let in some of the daylight from outside. Enough for me to see the array of wrenches in the tool chest before me. But seeing them isn’t the problem. I can’t even remember what I came into the Storage Shed for.
I slam the drawer closed.
Tipping my head back, I close my eyes.
This is why I shouldn’t have gotten involved with my boss. It’s affecting everything.
There’s no escape from thoughts of him when I’m living on his property.
The door to the shed opens .
I can’t see around the shelving that takes up the center of the room in front of me, but Cook is the only one still at the Lodge.
“Need me for something?” I call out, knowing it’s too early for lunch.
The door closes, and footsteps sound from the other side of the shelves.
I stay where I am, needing a moment to calm myself before I take my frustration out on Cook.
The footsteps round the corner beside me.
“I do need you for something.” Sterling’s voice curls around my throat.
I freeze for a heartbeat.
Then I whirl on him.
“You.” I point my finger at him.
He’s already right there.
So close.
“Me.” He steps forward. Forcing the tip of my finger into his chest.
“You…” I can’t think straight with him this close. “You left.”
He nods. And steps closer. “I’m back.”
My stupid heart squeezes.
He’s back.
But for how long?
Sterling grips my wrist and lifts it, taking the pressure off my fingertip.
He presses a kiss to the back of my hand, then sets my hand on his shoulder.
I lift my other hand and press it to his chest.
I don’t really want to stop him.
I don’t really want to stop him from touching me.
But I feel like I need to put up some sort of protest.
His heart thuds under my palm, then he grips that wrist too.
Repeating his action, he kisses my fingers, then places my hand on his other shoulder.
My eyes start to burn, and I focus my gaze on his throat.
Why does he have to be so confusing?
Sterling closes what’s left of the distance between us. And even though his movements are controlled, I can feel his hardness pressing into me.
He’s not unaffected.
And then he proves it by reaching up and gripping my braids.
“Eyes up here.” His voice is rough.
I obey.
Because I can’t stop myself.
But I refuse to completely give in.
I’ve had too long to sit with my thoughts.
“What happened to your hands? Who did you fight?” I dig my fingers into his shoulders.
To hold him away… To keep him close… I don’t know anymore.