Chapter 35
HANNA
The feathery feeling dancing down my arm causes me to stir and roll over.
Somehow, it’s the final weekend of January already and the first weekend this month that Miles is off from the firehouse.
He came over yesterday after finishing his shift and catching a nap back at his place and told me that his weekend is mine to have.
Rolling over to face him, I settle into the gentle comfort of having someone to wake up next to in the mornings.
He looks sleepy, which makes sense after the last forty-eight hours he’s had.
He told me that they had four calls, three of which were fires all growing in size and severity.
Looking at him next to me, I feel my lips pull back in the corners seeing how messy his hair looks after a good hard sleep.
“Hi, there,” I hum, my voice still scratchy from sleep.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he replies, leaning in and kissing the top of my shoulder. I let out a content ‘hmph’ because I love the way his voice sounds when he calls me that. “How’d you sleep?”
I nod my head and scooch myself closer so I’m tucked into his chest. He drapes an arm around me and pulls me in, eliminating any space that was once between us.
“I slept good. I like when you’re next to me, it’s like having a personal weighted blanket that always smells like hot man.”
He chuckles and the sound of his laughter fills the room. “And here I was thinking I always smelled like soot and singed hair.”
I bury my nose in his chest and take a deep inhale. “Nope, hot man only.”
He laughs again and tightens his arms around me a little more.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I drink in this moment where it’s just the two of us.
No outside noise or distractions. How easy it feels.
How right it feels to be with him like this.
I have patients who tell me about their relationships and all the things that bother them about their partners.
But when I think about Miles, I can’t find a single thing about him I don’t like.
Maybe it’s because we’re still in the honeymoon phase.
But when he’s here, everything in my life finally feels whole.
Like I’ve been walking around, collecting different pieces and parts to add to myself and he’s the final piece I’ve been searching for.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asks gently, pulling away from me enough to peer down and look at me.
“You. Us,” I answer easily. Because even being honest with him is easy.
“What about me, us?”
I wiggle out from being so close to him so I can look him in the eye. The deep brown color of them envelops me like a hug, holding me tight and safe while I say something that makes anyone nervous before they say it.
“I was just thinking about how things with us are so…easy. I can’t tell you how often I sit across from people in my office complaining about their partners, but every time I think about you, I can’t think of a single thing I don’t like.
You make me happy and cook me dinner and text me every single morning when you’re not already with me.
You tell me I’m beautiful when I look like I literally crawled out of a dumpster and you have the heart of a saint.
The way you treat the people you love is kind and gentle but you watch out for others with this fierce protectiveness that is so wildly attractive it makes me want to take my clothes off when I see it.
” My words are coming out so fast I’m almost out of breath.
“The way you look at me makes my heart melt and when I show you my newest crochet projects you never tell me they’re silly or dumb.
You listen when I talk to you and ask questions that are insightful and intelligent.
I think I got to a certain point in my life where I thought this kind of love wasn’t for me but here you are, looking back at me, smiling, probably thinking I’m crazy because I sound like a crazy person right now. ”
I half smirk at him because of the way he’s looking at me and finally take a breath. His eyes search mine as he reaches to brush a piece of hair out of my face.
“I love you, too, Hanna.”
It’s simple. Short and sweet. But it’s the best five words I’ve ever heard strung together in a sentence.
“You do?” I ask but I don’t know why. It isn’t the first time this topic has come up between us. I guess I’m surprised by how easily he said it.
“I do.” He nods his head. “More than anything. I think I have since the first time I walked into your office. If it wasn’t then it was definitely that night in the bar when you stole my hat and sang to me from across the room.
” His eyes glance over to where the hat is now sitting on the top of my dresser.
He takes a hand and frames my face. “I love you because you see me, all of me, and it doesn’t scare you away.
You aren’t afraid of my demons. You stand next to me and help me fight them—help me heal from them.
I’ve never had someone in my life who’s been willing to do that.
Sure, you’re beautiful and smart and funny and I love all of those things about you.
But what I love most about you is your heart and how I’m convinced that it was made to love mine. ”
Laying next to him, I smile and run my fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes while I do, almost like he’s saying a silent prayer, thanking the gods above for bringing us together. When he opens his eyes again, I smile.
“You love me?” I smirk.
“I do.”
“Say it again,” I say, moving closer towards him.
“I love you.”
I feel my cheeks inflate. Pulling myself closer, I repeat myself, “Say it again.”
He happily complies. “I love you.”
“One more time,” I whisper, climbing up on top of him. My legs straddle either side of his core and I bend over at my waist, flipping my hair to one side and bringing my lips close to his.
“I love you,” he says, gripping the tops of my thighs a little tighter with his fingertips.
“I love you, too, fireman.” I bring my lips to his and kiss him hard. I feel his arms constrict around my back, holding me in place on top of him before he tips us over. I squeal and then laugh as he rolls us to where he’s on top of me now.
“You have my heart, Hanna Smith. And I don’t think I ever want it back,” he promises, looking down at me. He has my hands pinned above my head and is giving me a big goofy smile.
“Good, because I don’t think I ever want to give it back,” I say, shaking my head at him.
When he leans down to kiss me, I wrap my hands around his neck.
His tongue presses into my mouth and I’m ready to let him have me completely when the loud grumble of my stomach sounds off between us.
We both fall into a fit of laughter and the sound of our shared joy fills my bedroom.
When he collects himself, he kisses my cheek and looks at me.
“How about some breakfast?”
“I guess breakfast would be a good idea,” I agree. When he goes to move off of me, I dig my fingernails into his shoulder blades, calling his attention back to me. “But after…”
His eyes heat with desire and need. “After I feed you breakfast”—he dips down and kisses my neck, carefully nipping me—“You can feed me breakfast.”
A soft tingling feeling creeps over my skin thinking about it. “Deal.”
Twenty minutes later I’m sitting at the bar wearing his shirt that fits more like a dress and a pair of sleep shorts.
“Do you want any help?” I ask as I watch him move around the kitchen. He glances up and smirks at me.
“The only thing I want you to do is sit there and look pretty, which you’re already doing, so your job is done.” I smirk and shake my head at him.
As he cooks, I can’t help but not pay attention to how his muscles move and contract.
Currently shirtless since I’m wearing his shirt, I can see the softness of his core and the well defined muscles in his arms without issue.
My legs cross under the bar and squeeze together when he reaches for something in the fridge and every muscle in his back flexes with the movement.
He works in silence as he dices an onion and scrambles some eggs. I watch him intently, noticing how precise he is with every decision he makes. My hyper-awareness kicks in when I see his brows start to press together as he sprinkles in some salt and pepper into the egg mixture he’s whipping up.
“Something wrong?” I ask, tipping my head to one side.
His eyes dart to mine and while he does a good job of covering it up, I see the concern in them before it dissipates.
“No, everything’s fine. Just focused.”
“Miles,” I coax.
He lets out a sigh before looking at me. “I was just thinking about Carter, that’s all.”
From the way his voice turns down I know there’s more to this than he’s saying.
“Did something happen?”
He grinds his jaw and sets the bowl of eggs he’s whisking down on the counter. “I don’t know. He’s been acting strange lately. Distracted, not really like himself. And then a couple weeks ago, when Coop came to the firehouse to workout, he completely exploded on us.”
I tuck my hands into my lap and sit up. “Can I ask what about?”
His eyes scan over me for a beat before he shakes his head with an airy laugh.
“What?” I ask, looking at myself to make sure I look okay. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because, you just went full therapist on me,” he replies, continuing to laugh lightheartedly.
My shoulders slump and I feel my face screw up. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it sometimes,” I whine.
“No, no, it’s cute. I like it. Come here.
” He leans over the counter, lips pushed out, and I lean in to kiss him.
“I like it when you go full therapist, it’s another way you show you care.
Plus I think it’s really cute.” Before leaning away, he reaches up and pushes my glasses back up onto the bridge of my nose where they belong.
Picking up the bowl, he picks up where he left off with making breakfast. “I don’t know why he was upset.
He was acting like it was because Coop and I were asking him questions but I feel like it’s more than that.
He kept trying to say we were ‘butting into his life,’ as if that’s not something we’ve done our entire lives anyway.
” He rolls his eyes and pours the egg mixture into the hot frying pan.
The eggs pop and sizzle as they cook. “It was so weird. He’s been on edge since the start of the year and when he found out Willow was moving in with her boyfriend he lost it completely. ”
My ears prick up at what he says. I saw the way Carter and Willow were looking at one another when I went to family breakfast a few weeks ago. The way they kept passing a knowing glance at one another. I don’t think Miles or Coop saw it but I did.
“Have you tried talking to him about it?” I ask, leaning against the counter with my elbows.
“Well, yeah, but he just brushes it off. Or he gets pissy and storms off like a child.” He scrambles the eggs in the pan with a fork, adding a few spices here and there. When they’re done, he scrapes them onto a plate and adds some feta cheese, chives, and a sprig of cilantro on top.
“Can I have some buffalo sauce?” I ask, eyeing the plate.
He turns to reach for it in the fridge and drizzles just enough on top. I smile widely and clap my hands a few times when he sets my breakfast down in front of me. Taking a bite, my eyes roll to the back of my head when I finally get a taste of them.
“You make the best eggs,” I compliment, taking another bite.
“I’ll happily make you breakfast whenever you want, beautiful.” He’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed in front of his chest, with a wicked grin on his face.
“Only if you do it like that,” I shoot back, pointing my finger at his shirtless chest.
“Deal,” he laughs.
I take a few more bites, each one better than the last.
“I think you should ask him about it,” I say between bites. “He’s your brother; if anyone is going to be able to help him it’s you.”
He shrugs. “Maybe. He hasn’t been very open to listening recently.”
This makes the corner of my mouth tip up.
“I remember a certain someone who was acting the same way with me not so long ago. Defensive. Thought he was fine. Wasn’t really open to listening or help.
Kinda acting like a child if I’m being honest.” I take the last bite of my breakfast and push my plate back.
His eyes narrow. “What’d you say about me, doc?”
Like a hunter stalking his prey, he takes a few steps around the bar closing the space between us.
“I’m just saying, sometimes people aren’t open to help right away. Sometimes they need some encouragement to know that people care enough to help them.”
“Is that right?” he questions. The tone of his voice drops an octave and grows husky the closer he gets to me.
“I mean, just look at you now. Look how much happier you are now after you finally listened to me,” I tease.
He spins the barstool I’m sitting in around so I’m facing him.
His hands are on either side of the back of it and his face is close to mine.
A cloud of desire and need starts to make my brain feel foggy.
“Oh, I listen to you alright. I love to listen to you. Specifically those little noises you make as I make you finish on my tongue. Or when I fuck you so hard you’re begging for me to stop.
” His voice is more of a growl as he speaks, one of his hands dropping to the top of my leg and looping itself closer to my center.
I gasp when his fingers slip under my shorts and graze my already wet pussy.
“Are you done eating? Because I’d like to have my breakfast now if that’s okay with you. ”
I manage to nod my head. “Yeah, I’m done.”
“Good, now it’s your turn to feed me. Let me show you how good of a listener I can be, doc.”
Nodding again, I wrap my arms around his neck as he loops his arms under my ass. Picking me up, I straddle myself around his body and let him carry me back to my bedroom.