Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
FRANKIE
Miller’s lips feel like every dream I’ve ever had all rolled into one. They’re warm and welcoming, passionate but tender, soft but full of desire.
I’d never have thought it was possible to know someone just from the way their mouth touches mine, but that is exactly how this feels.
His hand on my waist draws me closer until my breasts press against his chest and his hardness pushes against my lower belly.
I allow myself to drift into him, allow my body to float away on the sea of sensations that his tongue and lips send coursing through me. The tingle of my skin, the fluttery pounding in my chest, the wet need inside me.
“You are so beautiful and so remarkable,” he murmurs between kisses.
And in this moment I feel like I really might be both those things. I might at least allow myself to believe that he believes I am both those things.
Wow, trusting what a man tells me—that’s new.
A sudden sharp click and a loud whoosh makes us both jump violently.
I laugh as I clutch my chest and try to calm my startled heart. “You must have leaned on the button.”
I point at the red light that’s now shining brightly on the dishwasher.
“Shit,” he says. “I didn’t put in any detergent. Did you?”
“Nope.”
He snatches at the handle and lowers the door, forcing me to step to the side, then presses a couple of buttons and closes it again. “There. I think I’ve reset it. No point washing dishes without soap. You’d only have to run it again.”
I suppress a laugh at his fastidiousness.
“I’m annoying, aren’t I?” he asks with a cock of his head. “Liking things clean, I mean.”
“Oh, that? No. The clean stuff’s fine. It’s everything else that’s annoying.”
He eyes me with amusement, running his tongue between his teeth and his top lip.
“You know what’s annoying about you?” He circles his arms around my waist as I loop mine around his neck.
“What?”
“That I can’t leave you alone.”
“Does that mean you want to leave me alone?”
“It means I should leave you alone.”
“Why should you?”
All trace of humor fades from his face. His handsome features—the deep brown eyes, the chiseled cheekbones, the jaw covered with stubble that marks the days he’s been here, the perfectly shaped lips a little weathered from being outdoors—all now have the set of someone about to deliver bad news.
“What is it, Miller?” There’s a heavy weight in my stomach, maybe like the feeling animals get right before a storm that makes them naturally seek shelter. “Why should you leave me alone?”
“Shit, Frankie.” He slides a hand up my side, brushing my breast before his fingertips settle on my cheek. His eyes search mine and his teeth dig so deep into his top lip that the pink turns white. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, just the tiniest movements, like he can’t decide something.
“It’s okay.” I run my fingers over his bristly chin. “You can tell—”
“Hey, Mill,” one of his brothers shouts from upstairs.
We leap off each other right before feet thunder down the steps and Luke appears.
He stops half a dozen steps from the bottom and stares at us in silence for a moment.
To be fair, my cheeks are burning, Miller is running his fingers through his hair, and we’re standing only about eighteen inches apart, clearly not in the middle of doing anything even remotely kitchen related.
“What is it?” Miller releases a resigned sigh.
“Do you have any deodorant I can borrow? Ethan won’t lend me his, and Dad says I can’t have his either because I need to learn my lesson for not packing properly.”
“Uh, yeah.” Miller walks between me and the table, and it’s all I can do not to touch his arm as he passes by. “It’s in the bathroom down here. Hang on.”
He disappears behind the door, and Luke and I smile awkwardly at each other for the two seconds before Miller reappears, holding his deodorant.
“Here.” He tosses it up to Luke who catches it with one hand, like they’re a solid partnership who’ve been playing catch their whole lives.
“Thanks,” Luke says, but doesn’t move, just continues to stand there watching us.
“Okay. Right. Yeah.” Miller turns to me. “I think that’s got most of the kitchen stuff tidied up.”
“Yes, yes.” I tug at the hem of my sweater. “Thank you for staying to help.”
“My big brother, helping in the kitchen?” Luke says. “That’s a first.”
“I’ll head to the barn then.” Miller takes a dramatically slow walk to the hooks on the wall by the front door where his coat is hanging.
My brain hurts from how hard I’m trying to send telepathic signals to Luke to go back upstairs so that I can kiss Miller good night.
The quick glance Miller gives me over his shoulder tells me he’s dragging things out for the same reason.
“You going to help us tomorrow?” Luke asks.
“Sure.” Miller pushes his feet into his boots at a snail’s pace. “Once I’ve got the donkey chores out of the way.”
“I so have to see that.” Luke erupts in laughter as he turns to me. “I won’t believe it till my own eyes have witnessed it. And Mom will never believe it without a photo.”
Miller sighs as he puts on his jacket. “Yeah, thanks, Luke.”
Behind his words I know he’s screaming, Luke, go the fuck upstairs. I know it because I’m internally screaming it too, in perfect harmony with him.
Miller’s hand is on the door handle now, just resting there, hoping that he won’t have to push it down just yet.
“See you in the morning, then,” he says to his brother.
“Yup. Night.” Luke waves but doesn’t move.
Does he know exactly what he’s doing and is cockblocking his brother?
Miller looks at me and shakes his head with a defeated smile. “Thanks again for a great dinner, Frankie.” Then opens the door.
“I’m cooking the guys a big breakfast in the morning to set them up for the day,” I tell Miller. “Be here at eight before it’s all gone.”
“Will do,” he says. “See you then. Good night.”
“Night, night,” I say.
As soon as the door’s closed behind him, Luke turns and heads back upstairs. “Night, Frankie.”
“Good night.” I fall back against the counter and try to catch my breath.