3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Ben
My mom opens her truck door, and I shout, "You can't just leave her here."
"Sure I can. She's your fiancée. Think of it as an arranged marriage.” She blows me a kiss and slams her door.
I run to the truck, but I don't make it to her in time. She's already pulling out and making her way down my long driveway.
"Fuck," I say louder than expected, and take a couple deep breaths.
The sound of wheels rolling on my front deck has me swiveling around, and the pretty little thing is trying to make sure the wheels don't get caught. I take her all in and my heart pounds while my cock thickens. She’s so beautiful. I didn't know anybody like her could exist, but the sadness and mortification on her face has my gut churning. I hate seeing that. Somebody so beautiful should only smile.
It sinks in that she's leaving, and I rush over to her. "What do you think you're doing?" I'm harsher than I mean to be. I curse myself when she jolts and doesn't look up.
"I'm so sorry for bothering you. I'm just going to leave. I didn’t mean to cause any problems.''
Sure, I'm pissed off about this situation, but I'm not mad at her, and could never think of her as a problem. I'm mad at my mother for putting us in this situation. I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind right now.
"No. You're not going anywhere, sweetheart. You don't know these mountains, and it's dark out. It's not safe." Emory huffs and gazes at me with fire in her eyes, and I love how her chest gets pushed out. My palms itch, wanting to grab myself a handful.
Fuck. I can't remember the last time I touched a woman, but I can already tell no woman will ever compare to my little sweetheart.
"Oh, so it's okay for your mom to go blazing out of here, but not me?"
"Yeah. She's lived her whole life on this mountain, unlike you. She knows her way around. Plus, she has a truck, and you have a sedan. Not smart up here."
The air seems to deflate from her sails as she realizes I'm making sense.
“I tried to rent a truck, or at least an SUV with four-wheel drive, but that was all they had.” She tries to sound more assured, but I hear the tiredness and hurt in her voice.
Shit. I don’t want to make her feel worse. I'm rough around the edges, I know that. So, I try to make myself less commanding, and try a softer approach.
"Look, I’d appreciate it if you stayed. At least for tonight. You've been travelling, and it's dark out. The nearest motel is a forty-minute drive from here. I’d feel better if you stayed." The thought of her out in the dark, alone, has my skin crawling. I can't imagine something happening to her. The thought alone makes my chest tight.
Emory's shoulders slump a little, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She avoids looking at me as much as she can, and the cutest blush stains her cheeks. I look down and curse. I forgot I'm not wearing a shirt. But with her reaction and how hard she's trying not to notice, I make sure not to smirk or puff up my chest, even though I love how my body is affecting her. Because her body is certainly affecting me.
"Okay, I'll stay the night, but I'm leaving first thing in the morning."
I give her a satisfied grunt, glad she's staying. It’s a small victory, but the idea of her leaving in the morning, I don't like it, and it's strange how I don't want an empty cabin now. I want her in it.
Without allowing her to change her mind, I grab her suitcase and place my hand on her lower back, electrical shocks firing up my arm. Emory stiffens for a second before walking back inside.
Did she feel the same thing I did?
I put her suitcase down. "I was going to jump in the shower when you knocked."
"Oh, right. Yes, go ahead.” She stands shuffling her feet. “Um, I can make dinner if you're hungry."
"Sweetheart, you don't have to cook. I can throw something together when I get out."
"Please. I want to. I love to cook, and it’ll keep me busy." The look on her face pleads with me to let her do something.
I nod. "Use whatever you fancy. I won't be long.'
She gives me her bright smile like she did earlier when I opened the door, and it hits me like a pile of bricks. I'd give anything to see that smile every damn day.
I leave her to it and take the fastest shower ever, get sheets on the guest bed, and move things around in the room. Since I bought the place, I've jam-packed the room, making it hard to have guests. The other rooms don't even have beds.
We sit down for dinner. She’s made a little feast with some chicken, green beans, potatoes, and gravy. "Damn, sweetheart, this is delicious. You're a great cook.”
Her infamous blush returns, and I can't help but wonder where it leads.
We enjoy the meal, but the conversation is stilted. There's no easy flow, but even in silence I enjoy her company. I offer to clean up, not wanting her to touch a thing since she cooked.
"Okay, then, do you mind if I take a shower and go to bed? It's been a long day.”
I'm bummed I won’t get to spend more time with her. I want to sit by the fire so I can look at her and get to know her. What is wrong with me? This is not like me. Being alone is all I have wanted since leaving the military, and now I want to beg for scraps of her attention when I don’t even know her. But she's been through a lot today. I can't imagine what's going on in her head. She needs to have some space to think. Just like I do.
"Of course. Let me show you where everything is.” When I show her to my bathroom, as the guest bathroom shower doesn’t even have a shower curtain up, I struggle with stopping myself from imagining her naked in there. So close to my bed.
As quickly as possible, I go back to the kitchen and clean up. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. The desire in my eyes and the bulge in my sweatpants is bound to do that. I should’ve put jeans on when I got out of the shower.
As I finish up, my phone pings.
Mom: I sent you an email with all the correspondence attached. Happy Reading.
Mom: Don't screw this up.
I don't respond; she's in the doghouse for the moment, but I'm eager to read the emails. After all, they're meant for me and I'm not the best when it comes to conversations. So maybe this will break the ice.
I finish up in the kitchen and get comfortable on the couch, turning on my laptop and beginning to learn about the beautiful woman who's staying in my house.