8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Maci
S utton’s weight causes a dip in the bed. When I peel my eyes open, he’s lying on his side, watching me. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s ok. What time is it?” My voice is croaky again.
“About six. I came to see if you were hungry.”
My eyes widen and I push up to sitting, wincing at the ache in my side. “Wow. I just sat down to rest for a minute.”
“You’re amazing, Firecracker, but you don’t have to push yourself so hard.” He twirls the hair that’s fallen on my shoulder around in his fingers. “I’m glad you finally got a little rest.”
“Should we clean up for dinner?”
He exhales heavily. “Yeah.”
I swipe my phone off the side table as he heads into the bathroom to wash up. There are several notifications in the group thread with Izzy and Leah.
Izzy:
Did you talk to the cowboy?
Leah:
Hello?
Quit the radio silence.
Izzy:
You can’t avoid this forever.
Or us.
Leah:
That’s it. We’re coming out there if you don’t message by dinner time.
Izzy:
I’m leaving in five to pick you up, Leah.
I roll my eyes at their wholly unnecessary escalation.
Me:
Jesus, calm down. I took a damn nap.
Leah:
You don’t have to be so snappy.
devil face
Izzy:
Did you talk to the cowboy?
Me:
OMG MOM, I will!!
And do not show up out here. I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you do.
“Everything okay?” Sutton’s warm voice draws my attention.
I lock my phone and lay it back on the table. “Yeah, just Izzy and Leah being overbearing as usual.”
He smiles softly. “You could do worse than a couple friends who check in on you.”
Raising my eyebrows at him, I slide my feet into my boots. “So could you.”
He grunts in response.
Dinner with Sutton’s parents is quieter than the last time we dined together. Andi is always one to fill the silence with words, but even she falls quiet a few times. Despite her protests, I help clean up after we eat.
“I won’t break if I load a few dishes into the dishwasher,” I promise her with a wink.
She shakes her head at me in that loving way mothers do. At least, the way I assume mothers do, because it’s a habit Nana had. Stephanie has never looked at me that way, with crinkled eyes and a tight mouth.
Michael retreats to his office after dinner. I don’t know what he makes of everything, but despite his quiet nature, I don’t get the impression he’s judging me.
As soon as the last dish is clean, Sutton whisks me back to his private area of the house. He showers while I change into his shirt from last night and apply a fresh bandage to my stitched body. I crawl into bed and wait for him to emerge, hoping that he’ll come out in just a towel, shaggy hair still dripping.
He does not.
He returns from the bathroom in dark, cotton, drawstring pants hung low on his hips. I’ve never seen him wear them before, and my mouth immediately begins to water. His perfect torso is dry, and each sculpted line is on display in the amber glow of the lamp as every shadow points lower to what’s hidden in his pants.
He pauses at the foot of the bed. “Behave.”
My cheeks heat and my lips part. “I’m just lying here, broken and helpless.” This elicits the most beautiful laugh from him, and his face lights up in the way I love. He’s truly an exceptionally handsome specimen of a man.
As he crawls under the covers, he opens his arm up for me to snuggle closer. “You are far from helpless, Firecracker.”
If he knows about the ache between my thighs, he doesn’t show it. I blame my stupid stitches. He crushes me to his side and neither of us speaks as we rest against each other. Like last night, it isn’t long before his even breathing has me on the verge of sleep. I wrap my arm over his warm body, desperate to stay in this moment, in this perfect safe space, for a little longer.
By Tuesday, my brain seems to have cleared enough to handle all the things I’ve been avoiding at Strickland Ranch.
After coffee, I make my way onto the front porch of The Big House and settle into a creaky rocking chair. I wonder if these were also made by Sutton’s grandfather.
I make my anticipated first call of the day. As Nana’s lawyer and executor of her will, if Hank hasn’t been notified of what took place at the house, he needs to know. He answers on the second ring.
“Hank Campbell speaking.” He has such a smooth voice. It’s not as deep as Sutton’s, but still just as comforting.
“Hi Hank, this is Maci McCullough, Ruthie’s granddaughter.” My feet press harder onto the wood planks of the porch, picking up speed in the noisy chair. “Unfortunately, I’m calling with news on the house.”
“I wondered if I was going to hear from you all.”
I pause. “Have you already been notified?”
“Yes. The detective came by my office yesterday morning.” He lets a breath pass. “Are you alright?”
What a loaded question. “I’m healing.”
“Maci, I can’t imagine what that was like for you. I know we aren’t exactly friends, but if you need some legal assistance, let me know and I’ll point you in the right direction.”
My throat threatens to close. “Thank you.”
“I’ve scheduled crime scene cleanup, and I’ll handle all of the behind-the-scenes items.”
“We don’t deserve you.” I hadn’t even considered crime scene cleanup or anything else that needs to be done.
Hank lets out a chuckle. “There’s nothing to deserve. For one, this is the role I signed up for and I’m the most qualified to handle it, anyway. But also, Ruthie was a very kind person and I’m glad to help her family where I can.” He sighs. “It’s not my place to say, but I couldn’t help but notice all the tension in the house while I was there—and I know what the will entailed—so I imagine it didn’t get any easier.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement,” I say, wryly.
“Well, I meant what I said. If I can help in any way, I will.”
The thought of having someone on my side who isn’t family or my boyfriend brings me a sliver of comfort. Someone who has connections and knowledge of the laws. “Thank you.”
“I have a meeting to get to. Was there anything else?” Hank’s voice is soft instead of dismissive.
“No. I really appreciate you, Hank.”
“You bet. Talk to you soon, Maci.”
One call down, two to go.
My second is to the Bull Creek Police Department. I’m surprised I haven’t heard more from Detective Porter about not coming in yet. I leave a message with the officer that answers that I’ll come by tomorrow. He seems unphased by my call.
My final call is the one I’m looking forward to the least: Stephanie.