28. Millie
Millie
Slowly, Millie climbed out of the tent to the sound of Strike’s snoring and crept to a bush to use the toilet, grabbing tissues from her rucksack.
Weeing in a bush was a far cry from her city apartment, which, after spending time at Bear’s with Liss and the gang, she missed less and less.
She shivered as she meandered to a safe spot. She should have grabbed the hoodie she’d tossed somewhere in the night.
Sadness settled like a cloud as she reflected on all the years she and Strike had missed, and then on Strike’s suffering.
Half of her wanted to hold him close and never let go, taking all his painful memories until he was fresh and free. But that was impossible. It was part of him.
And then there was the other thing.
She’d not let a man touch her for years, but the way he’d kissed and held her lit something she’d denied herself.
After learning about the past and then spending a night snuggling in his arms, her physical trust was growing, and accompanying it was the need that had gripped her in the lake before they kissed. She wrestled with her attraction to his authority and care.
The combination left her panting.
For years, she’d resigned herself to being the meek, complicit, well-behaved daughter and sister, hiding her true self to ensure her family accepted her.
As Millie walked toward the tent, something caught her eye.
She smoothed her fingers over the rough bark of the tree where Caleb had carved their initials the morning after their first kiss.
She’d hidden her intensity then, too, only telling him she wanted to follow him to university after they’d had sex.
She’d known for years she wouldn’t survive without him.
But she had survived, and maybe she’d have to again after this was over.
What worried her most was how calm she was being.
Was it because she wasn’t yet in a place where she could properly process everything?
The sooner she was in Cornwall, where she’d have space bigger than a tent or a car, the sooner she could call her family.
How could they betray her like they did and then keep it quiet all these years?
With one last touch of the letters on the tree, she walked away.
As she sneaked into the tent, she paused on her knees. Sleeping Strike was mesmerising. Lines no longer crossed his face, and the corner of his mouth quirked up.
“I don’t remember asking you to get on your knees and crawl to me, Doc.”
Her cheeks heated as he opened his eyes and winked. She dug her teeth into her lips as he fixed her with his twinkling blue stare.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I’ve not slept deeply since joining the SAS, although last night was one of the best I’ve had in an age. Come here so I can get another half an hour. I need you close so I can sleep soundly.”
She crawled to him because it was the only way to reach him.
He licked his lips and stared below her chin. She cocked her head as he stared. “What?”
“Shit, baby. Every part of you is fucking beautiful.” He pulled his hand down his face and closed his eyes tightly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have watched that.”
She looked down. Her strappy pyjama top dipped, displaying her breasts.
“You can keep your eyes open if you want,” she said tentatively, swallowing a couple of times as he sat up. The edge of the sleeping bag revealed the T-shirt clinging to his muscles. “I like that you enjoy staring at me.”
She suspected she had a praise kink from the things she needed the men on her app to say and the frustration when they didn’t, but when Strike said it, it meant something.
His blue eyes darkened, and his tongue swept the seam of his lips. “You’re better than my dreams,” he said thickly.
“But you’ve seen it before.”
“Ten years is a long time. And you’re more beautiful and even sexier. Jesus.”
He grabbed her and pulled her against him as they snuggled into the sleeping bag.
“I dreamt about you,” he whispered, his voice like honey on warm bread.
“What sort of dream? Presumably, a robot has PG-13 dreams.”
His chuckle was smooth. “Like I said before, being around you makes me less of a robot.”
“Oh.” Fantasies attempted to infiltrate her calm. “Good.”
He cleared his throat. “Now sleep. Cam will be here soon, and we must get to Cornwall.”
When I speak to my family.
She stilled as she sighed. Everything he did made her safer and able to accept his touch. But it might not be enough after what they’d been through.