Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
LOXLEY
Loop, loop, swoop. Loop, loop, swoop.
Why did I think crocheting was a good idea? Who let me click "order" on three skeins of yarn and a tiny hook thingy? It was hopeless, and no amount of YouTube tutorials were going to teach me anything beyond a simple chain stitch.
But the good news? I'd made a gorgeous, um, necklace for Miles.
The kitchen door creaked open, then shut. Boots thudded across the wooden floor, their weight unmistakable.
"Lox?"
"In here!" I called, biting my lip as I attempted another loop. My fingers fumbled, the yarn slipping slightly before I corrected it.
Miles entered the living room, his presence familiar and grounding, as if we’d always lived together. I stole a glance at him, just long enough to catch his amused expression before focusing back on my work.
"What in the world are you doing?" He chuckled, nudging my feet aside so he could sink onto the couch.
"I decided to take up a hobby," I said, holding up the mess of yarn with mock pride. "It was either this or tiling showers, and I figured we should leave that to the professionals. Look! I made you something."
I reached for the chain I’d abandoned at seventeen inches and proudly presented it. Miles took it, holding it up to inspect it as his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Oh," he said, nodding slowly. He lifted it even higher, as if a different angle might reveal what it was, but I laughed and took pity on him.
"It's a necklace," I explained.
"A yarn necklace?"
"You got a problem with that?" I wielded the crochet hook like a tiny sword, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"No, ma’am," he said, grinning. "Not at all. In fact, it’s rather charming." His words were teasing, but there was something warm in the way he looked at me as he slid it over his head, getting it tangled in his radio and badge.
"Here, let me," I said, shifting onto my knees beside him. My fingers brushed against the cool metal of his badge as I untangled the yarn, smoothing it down against his chest. A silly piece of string, but somehow, the sight of it there made me smile.
"All better," I murmured.
"How’s it look?" he asked, tilting his head dramatically.
"Like a shitty piece of yarn," I laughed.
"But I’m wearing it anyway," he declared. "And now you have to make a matching one."
I smirked. "Like our own version of friendship bracelets?"
"Exactly."
Despite how sweet and silly Miles was being, I could tell something was off.
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and weariness clung to him.
Still on my knees beside him, I leaned back and ran a slow hand through his hair.
His eyelids fluttered at my touch, and he exhaled, melting just a little beneath my fingers.
“You okay today?” I asked softly.
“Oh yeah,” he said, flashing a tired smile.
But the way his body instinctively pressed into my touch as I combed through his hair again told me otherwise.
He let out a quiet moan before telling me about his day.
“Had to look for Loxley Adams again. Then had a chat with my brother about how much his girl wants to go to a Loxley Adams concert. And then, I had to save Blue from her issues with the Murphy brothers.”
I sat back on my heels, arching a brow. “Okay, that last one wasn’t my fault.”
“No,” he laughed, shaking his head. “That wasn’t your fault. Honestly, I’m just tired.”
I frowned. “Did you not sleep well?” Guilt crept in, because if he hadn’t, that would have definitely been my fault.
“I slept fine,” he assured me, though his voice lacked conviction. “Just tired, Lox.”
With a gentle tug, he pulled me down until I tumbled into his lap, my head landing against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, anchoring me to him, and I could feel his heartbeat beneath my ear.
So steady, so real. The way he held me, like I was something precious, made my own heart ache in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
But I stayed still, hoping my presence was enough to ease whatever weight he was carrying.
“Who’s Blue?” I asked absently, my mind circling back to the way he’d said he had to save her.
“Are you jealous?” His fingers found my waist, poking playfully, making me squirm.
“No,” I insisted, but my mind was already conjuring up images of some impossibly gorgeous woman. If I was being honest, I was hoping he’d say Blue was a cocker spaniel. So maybe I was jealous.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating beneath my cheek. “Blue’s the bartender down at Fiddlers. The Murphy brothers come in every so often, drink too much, usually break some shit, and she calls me to drag them out.”
“Oh.” I exhaled, plucking at a loose thread on his uniform. “So, not a dog.”
Miles laughed again, the warmth of it wrapping around me as his arms tightened, holding me like I belonged there. His lips brushed the top of my head in a way that felt so effortless, so natural, that I wasn’t sure he even realized he’d done it.
I pushed my fingers between the buttons of his uniform, seeking out the soft fabric of his shirt underneath. The heat of his skin was just barely there, but I could feel it, and the connection settled something inside me.
I started to trace my fingers in a slow, soothing motion, but before I could do much more, Miles caught my hand, stilling it against his chest.
“I lied to you.” His voice was a whisper.
“About what?” I froze, a quick chill running down my spine.
“I didn’t sleep a fucking wink last night.” His voice was hoarse. “I just laid there and watched you, amazed by you, and made a list of all the reasons I shouldn’t let myself feel anything for you.”
My breath hitched. I wanted to lift my head, to look him in the eye, but I could hear his heart pounding, and that felt just as important.
“What was on your list?” I asked, my own voice being just above a whisper.
Miles hesitated, then exhaled like the words were being pushed with that breath. “You ran away to find yourself, not to find me. Or anyone else, for that matter.” He swallowed. “That was number one. And the only thing that really matters.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy with everything we weren’t saying.
Maybe he was right. Maybe this wasn’t supposed to happen. But as I slowly lifted myself, shifting until I straddled his waist, knees settling around the belt he hadn’t bothered to take off, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Maybe,” I murmured, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth beneath my palms, “this is how it was supposed to be all along.”
My mind drifted back to the night I had my concert in Harmony Haven.
As the stage lights dimmed, I walked off that stage and saw Officer Brooks.
I remembered the way his smile had steadied me, how his presence had made me feel unexpectedly at ease.
And now, sitting here with him, wrapped in his arms, there was no doubt in my mind that fate had pulled us back together.
Maybe it was temporary. But the world worked in mysterious ways, and in that moment, being there with Miles felt like exactly where I was supposed to be.
“I remember you,” I whispered, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
A soft smile curved my lips as I let the memory wash over me.
“I was walking off the stage, and you smiled up at me. Your hand reached out for mine, and when I took it, I felt something spark between us. I felt… happy. Content. And just as soon as you let go, that feeling faded.”
Miles’ eyes flickered with something unreadable. Was it worry, surprise, hope? “You remember that?”
I nodded, my heart pounding against my ribs. “It was the only thing I thought about as I drove off in Sam’s rental car. I wanted to chase that feeling, and the last time I felt it was when I was in Harmony Haven.”
I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how much I was giving away. I wasn’t just reminiscing, I was handing him the power to decide what this meant. Whether we kept moving toward something deeper or if I was about to make a fool of myself.
“But you couldn’t have planned for me to pull you over,” he murmured, trying to make sense of it all.
“I didn’t plan on ever seeing you again,” I admitted with a breathless laugh, shaking my head at the sheer irony of it. “And I hadn’t even realized it was you until we got here and I was looking down at you from the top step of the porch.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
I hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s kind of embarrassing.” I searched his face, nervous but eager, my voice dipping as I asked, “Do you remember that moment?”
“Yeah, I do.” His smile was slow, reverent. His hand found my jawline and he brushed his thumb gently along my skin. “I think about it a lot, actually. What was going through your head? Why did you look so sad? Did you smile for me or because of me?”
My breath caught. His touch burned in the best way, and suddenly, there wasn’t enough space between us.
My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the top button of his uniform, slipping it free. “I smiled because of you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “And even though this may be temporary, I think this is exactly where we’re meant to be.”
Miles gripped onto my thighs and his fingers flexed as I undid the next button of his shirt. My hands were unsteady, but determined, teasing the soft fabric of his undershirt, tugging at it just enough to test him.
He didn’t move. Didn’t help me. He just watched.
The heat between us simmered, slow and intoxicating. We were balancing on the edge of something neither of us could define, but both of us wanted.
From where I rested on his lap, I felt him harden beneath me, a silent confession of how badly he wanted this. I shifted slightly, wanting him to know that I felt him and a sharp hiss left his lips. His grip on my thighs tightened, fingers digging in just enough to still me.
“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked, repeating the question I had asked the night before. My voice was teasing, but laced with need.
His gaze burned into mine, dark and unreadable. “Probably,” he murmured. Then, with a slow nod, his voice dropped even lower. “I’m probably gonna do a lot of other things to you as well.”
Heat flushed through my body. “Please,” I whispered, breathless, desperate. “All of it. Until there’s nothing left.”
His expression flickered, something raw, something primal.
He shifted beneath me, reaching to his side and I heard the quiet snap of his gun holster open, then watched as he slid his gun free.
Holding me steady with one arm, he leaned forward and set the weapon onto the coffee table.
He stayed upright that time, not leaning back, and I took my chance to push the fabric of his uniform from his shoulders.
His nose brushed against mine, his mouth so close I could feel every shaky breath he took. The tension coiled between us.
“Don’t regret this, Lox.” His words were a warning as well as a plea.
“I never will.” I shook my head, my heart pounding against my ribs. “I prom—”
Before I could even finish, his lips crashed into mine.
The kiss was a firestorm. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. His tongue swept into my mouth, staking his claim, and I melted against him, arms locking around his neck, holding him to me like I would never let go.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, wild and uncontrollable, but it wasn’t just nerves. It was everything. A moment so charged with emotion, so right, I could have cried from the sheer intensity of it.
Miles pulled back only long enough to yank his undershirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind me. My fingers found his bare skin, tracing along the ridges of muscle and loving the way his body had goosebumps as he reacted to my touch.
Then, with a sudden shift, he scooped me into his arms. A small gasp left my lips as I clung to him, wrapping my legs around his waist. His strength was effortless as he carried me down the hall. His lips were brushing over my jaw, my neck, my shoulder. Every touch sent a shiver down my spine.
When we reached his bedroom, he lowered me gently onto the mattress and then took two slow steps back.
Standing at the edge of the bed, his eyes swept over me.
They were half-wild and filled with heat.
He undid his service belt with practiced ease, the heavy leather sliding free before it hit the floor with a quiet thud.
For a minute, he just stood there, watching me. But his gaze never wavered when he continued to undress, slow and deliberate, peeling away the layers until he was left in only his boxers and the flimsy yarn necklace I’d spent all day making.
That damn necklace.
It looked absurd against the hard planes of his body, yet something about him still wearing it made my chest tighten even more.
I dragged my tongue over my bottom lip, eyes locked on the impressive outline straining against the fabric of his shorts.
My fingers itched to strip the last barrier away, to see all of him, but just as I reached forward, he smirked and shook his head.
Not yet.
Instead, he pulled me to my knees, his hands framing my face as his lips crashed into mine. He kissed me deep and slow, slightly leaning over me from where he stood at the edge of the bed. My soft moans turned into something desperate, something pleading, as the kiss grew more intense.
When his hands finally left my face, I nearly crumpled onto the mattress, my body weak with want. But before I could collapse, he caught me by the hips, his grip firm and steady, anchoring me.
His hands skimmed higher, the warmth of his palms setting fire to my skin as he lifted my t-shirt over my head. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts, shoving them down, eager to finally feel his bare skin against mine.
Pushing me back, he climbed over me slowly, kissing my stomach and a path up to my collarbone before returning his lips to mine.
He pressed his covered cock to my core, grinding down so that I was triggered by the contact.
It was all I could do to nod, hoping he realized that I was begging for him to continue.
“Tell me what I need to hear, Lox. Use your words, baby.”
I was confused, because I hadn’t heard him ask me anything. There was nothing to say. I just wanted to feel.
But then my eyes locked with his and I knew exactly what he was waiting for.