Chapter 34
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
ASPEN
Alert the media. I’ve got Emmett Slate, grumpy hotshot, in a bubble bath and he smells like lavender.
Lavender bubbles and his hard body wrapped around me. Is this real life?
There’s even a candle burning that I’ve been meaning to use but haven’t found the time, and our lukewarm coffee on the edge.
When I woke up to a rumpled but much emptier bed than I’d been expecting, I assumed Emmett couldn’t sleep and left.
Disappointment pressed in on me, making my limbs feel like concrete as I dragged myself out of bed, only to find him making me breakfast—hair sticking up, staring at the coffee machine like it was a rubix cube.
It was sweet enough to make my teeth ache.
Lukewarm coffee is absolutely worth the tradeoff after the morning Emmett just gave me. I could get used to this.
Emmett’s strong hands work magic on my shoulder and neck as I rest against his chest.
“You’re sure this is okay? It’s not bothering your ribs?” I ask for the eleven-hundredth time.
“Aspen,” he groans. “Make me tell you again and I’ll spank your ass.”
Well, fuck, that sends me right back to the kitchen when he got that wicked gleam in his eye earlier.
It’s honestly impressive that I don’t stand and present my backside to him again right now.
That would be undignified, though, and I’m trying not to completely lose my mind over how good literally everything is with him.
I press my lips together, sealing my enthusiastic agreement inside.
I make life-or-death decisions every day at work. Somehow I’ve become the family manager for my brothers and parents. No one gives me the freedom to just exist the way Emmett does, and I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it. It’s just who he is.
Vibrations rumble out of him. “You’d like that too much. No, we’ll have to have a more suitable punishment for when you doubt me.”
The bathtub just got wetter, but at least he can’t tell. Small miracles.
“What are your plans for the day?” I steer us in a new direction, one that gives my never-ending need for him a rest. Five orgasms in twelve hours is all I can handle.
“This,” he says simply.
“You planned to soak in the bath with me.”
“No.” His hands dip below the water, finding my thighs and working the muscles there. It’s ungodly. I haven’t made time for a massage in months—it’s long overdue, but this is so much, much better. “Doing whatever it is you do on your day off.”
I swallow my excitement. A day off with nothing to do but just be lazy with him.
“You don’t have any appointments or PT today?”
“Nope.”
I sit up, turning to look at him over my shoulder. He looks peaceful, relaxed. “You won’t be—I don’t know—bored?”
“I’ve mastered boredom in the past two weeks. Trust me, you’re an improvement on the running commentary in my own head. ”
I study him for a moment. The lines that have lived between his brows since the day we met have eased, and the normally tense set of his shoulders is gone for the moment too.
Everything else that still makes him seem so rugged—unapproachable, is still there.
The dusting of coarse hair over his pronounced pecs.
The old scar on his side and the new ones still fresh and pink from his burns.
It’s hard to believe this man who’s built his entire personality on not caring too much can look so warm and welcoming in my tub.
“I'm glad I could give you a break.” It comes out far too raspy, but it’s the truth, he’s taken up so much of my mental real estate these last few weeks.
“There’s actually something I need to ask you.”
The hand working wonders on my neck slips beneath the water as he leans back just enough to create space between us. I instantly hate it.
“What is it?” Worry squeezes my sternum as I run my eyes over him again.
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
Whatever it is, he’s trying to downplay it.
“Emmett.”
There’s the smallest shake of his head before his arms tighten around me.
“Emmett,” I say again, softer this time. “Just tell me.”
“If you can’t . . . I’ll figure it out. It’s not a big deal or anything.” He stares at the candle flickering.
“I’d do just about anything you asked.”
His muscles unfurl and he pulls me into his lap. It feels more intimate than any other time we’ve touched, which seems insane considering the things I’ve let him do to me.
“What a fucking pair we make,” he mumbles under his breath. “I know that, and maybe that’s why asking you is so fucking confusing. There’s no one else I’d want to ask, even if I had other people. But knowing that’ you’ll say yes without a second thought makes me feel like a dick.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I’m not incapable of saying no, I just choose yes when I want to.” I’ve earned the nickname my brothers gave me, but I also genuinely like helping the people I care about. It makes me feel useful.
“I need to get back home.”
The warmth drains out of me so fast it feels like a lead weight dropping through my stomach.
“Oh. Yeah, okay,” I offer absently. Internally, I’m spinning the hell out.
I knew he wasn’t here to stay. That’s always been the deal—he can’t stay.
He can’t give me more. Leaving was always going to be rough, but I thought I had more time.
“Hey.” He grips my chin, pulling my gaze back to him. His soft smile punches straight through my chest, telling me to brace myself. “Aspen, I’m not leaving—not for good. Not yet.”
“Oh,” I mutter, my lungs finally inflating again. Maybe this was the reminder I needed. I’ve given him too much already. I should hold some back, but I don’t think I can.
“I just need to get back for a few hours and take care of some things. Will you come with me?”
“Come with you?” Disbelief makes my voice hollow. I thought maybe he would ask to borrow my car or something, but he wants . . .
“Like . . . drive you?”
“You can drive if you want or I can.” He shrugs, nose wrinkling slightly, and it’s strangely adorable on him—all rough edges and quiet sincerity. Just . . . Emmett. “Obviously, we’ll need to take your car.”
“And that’s why you’re a nervous wreck?”
He sits straighter. “I’m not nervous—I don’t get nervous. Whoever told you that clearly doesn’t know me.”
I run my thumb over his cheekbone. “I know you.”
“Do you?”
I nod, my lip pinned between my teeth. So much for holding back.
“I know you care more than you let on. You’ve never let me know, despite insisting that you do life alone.
Hell, you brought me coffee, so I think we can add thoughtful to the list. And even though you don’t want to, you worry about the people in your life. You’ve made friends with the guys.”
“That was forced,” he insists, but there’s no conviction behind it.
“You could have bailed, but you didn’t. Atlas likes you.”
“I saved Harlowe, and he likes everyone.”
“Jude, the only person in Wyoming grumpier than you didn’t call you a dumbass, so that’s something.”
“You’re giving me too much credit.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough,” I insist. “Are you asking me because you need a ride or because you want me to go?”
“I want you there.”
I melt into him when his lips graze my temple. “Then it’s settled.” The knot in my chest loosens. Not just because I can do something for him, but because he’s letting me. “When do you want to go?”
“I should be cleared to drive at my appointment tomorrow. We could go after that. There’s a few things I need to do while I’m there but we should be able to do it all in one day. I’m going to bring the van back with me so you and Atlas aren’t forced to cart me around.”
Freedom and control—two things paramount to Emmett’s comfort—and still, the thought of him getting the van back leaves an ache in my chest. It’s the first real step toward him reclaiming the life waiting for him outside Timberline Peak.
Outside of me.
I hate that part of me already misses him for it.
I force a smile. “Tomorrow works for me. And if your appointment doesn’t go the way you’re hoping, we’ll figure something else out.”
His shoulders loosen slightly, like he hadn’t realized he was braced for me to push back.
“Thank you.”
The soft sincerity in his voice wrecks me more than it should. Because this isn’t really about the ride. It’s about him letting me into parts of his life he’s kept sealed off from everyone else.
Before I can think too hard about what that means, I slide my hand between us, beneath the water, drawing a rough exhale from him as I settle deeper into his lap.
Right now, I don’t want to think about him eventually leaving Timberline Peak; I just want him here.