Chapter 40 - Hattie
HATTIE
The sun sags low by the time we make it to Solana Bluffs.
When my heart told me to come here, I didn’t stop to question it.
I simply listened. The apartment upstairs better have heat and electric, and hopefully a blanket or two, because I don’t want to turn back around and stay anywhere else tonight.
Before I step out of my truck, I send a quick text to my dad, so he knows we made it safely and that I’m not freaking the hell out after yet another shit day. Add it to my growing collection, I guess.
I toss my phone on the passenger seat when Heston opens my door for me.
“I thought you said you wanted to go home.”
I take his outstretched hand and slide down from my seat. “I did.”
The door slams closed, but he doesn’t look away from me. Even as I start toward the barn with him trailing close behind, I can feel his eyes on me.
Every stressful tremor in my body slows to a relaxed hum as I look up at the real-life version of what once only existed in my imagination.
Behind the roof line, the sky looks painted with colors of bruised violet and bursts of molten orange.
The view is enough to make everything we’ve been through feel worth it.
My feet slow to a stop as I continue to stare up at the sky in awe. Heston wraps an arm around my collarbone and pulls me to him.
“Where’s Lucky?” I ask.
“I was pulling up at the ranch when your dad texted me about seeing Marcus’s car at the venue. Wasn’t sure what I’d be stepping into, so I left her there with the kid before driving to Tish.”
My mouth curves. “You trusted our dog with Granger?”
He shrugs. “Yeah. I trust him.”
I rest the back of my head against his chest. “How many days do you think we could let our phones die and disappear from the world out here?”
“Three, tops,” he answers honestly. “Tripp would show up eventually and crash the party.”
I laugh and turn in his arms to look up at him.
I reach up to run my fingers through his grown-out hair.
The last bit of sunlight lands softly over the brim of his taupe-colored cowboy hat.
His sleeves are pushed up to his forearms, and I roll my lips into my mouth while my other hand trails up his chest.
“I changed my mind about not wanting a birthday present this year.”
He quirks a brow, and I feel a rough hand smooth over the curve of my lower back. “You could have given me a heads up. Pretty sure the nearest store is closed and only sells feed and old-fashioned candy anyway.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “You don’t have to buy me anything. Just take me upstairs.”
He’s layered and thinks too hard, most days.
But at his core, Heston is a simple man.
Without a second of hesitation, he hauls me over his shoulder.
I doubt he’ll have much to say at all for the rest of the night after hearing that request from me.
I’m smiling down at his backside while he carries me up the stairs with a sense of urgency I’ve only ever seen from him a few times before.
There’s no door outside of the bedroom, which makes me laugh.
Thankfully, the rest of the space is mostly finished.
There’s fresh paint on the walls and medium-toned wood flooring.
The furnishings are sparse, with just a queen bed and a freestanding lamp in the corner.
One of his old t-shirts is draped over the back of a chair by the window, so I’d venture to guess he worked late and crashed here on occasion.
Heston carries me into the bathroom, and my stomach flips when he leans to the side and turns on the shower.
“Did you forget I’m another year older?” I ask, still hanging over his shoulder. “The shower floor isn’t going to do my ancient knees any favors.”
“You’re not old enough for bad knees.” He sits me on the edge of the vanity counter and begins unbuttoning his shirt. “You won’t be getting down on them, anyway.”
The bathroom is filling with steam, and my heart is racing, but I manage to take off my denim vest with a sarcastic pout. “What’s the point of taking a shower together if I can’t suck your—”
“Jesus, woman.” He interrupts, tossing his shirt behind him and moving to undo his belt. “I forgot how hard it is to listen to you talk like that and not bust in my jeans.”
I’m aching to reach out and touch him, but he backs away to finish shucking off the rest of his clothes, and then pulls my boots off.
They land with a thud on the bathroom floor.
While he leans forward to kiss the side of my neck, I make quick work of my bra and wiggle my hips on the counter to slip my skirt and panties off.
The moment he realizes we’re both naked, he lifts me into his arms again and steps into the shower. A shiver runs across the surface of my skin as he holds me under the spray of warm water.
He could line himself up and sink into me within seconds if he wanted to. Instead, he lets me slide down to my feet and reaches for a bottle of shampoo. My hands skim up his sides, and I plant a kiss on the scar right under his shoulder. He tries to ignore me while rushing through washing his hair.
“You’re literally taking a shower right now?” I ask with fake annoyance.
“Didn’t figure you wanted me on top of you if I smelled like I’d been sweating in a barn all morning.” He grips my waist, spins us so that only his head is under the water, and then pushes his hair back as the suds rinse off.
My tongue darts out as I leave an open-mouthed kiss between his pec muscles. “This coming from the guy who once pinned me on the dusty seat of the feed truck with dirt-covered hands and told me he was about to shove his cock so far up my cunt that I could feel it in my stomach?”
I reach down between his legs to take his hard length in my hand. The sound that tears from his throat is guttural and tortured. I try to hide my smirk.
“I didn’t say shove,” he grits out, peering down at me with heated lust in his eyes.
“Push, sink, shove . . . whatever,” I argue.
I release him from my grip when he backs me against the tiled wall.
It’s cold on my back, and I arch into him with a gasp.
One of his hands is flat on the wall beside my head, the other slips down over my lower abdomen.
My nails dig into his sides when his fingers land right over my clit with the most delicious pressure.
“Oh god, Hes. Now,” I beg.
His mouth hovers over my ear. “Ask nicely.”
My eyes fall closed. “Please.”
He pushes his middle finger inside of me, just to pull it out, and dip right back in.
He repeats the action painfully slowly three more times before adding another finger.
This time, his pace quickens right along with my breaths.
His fingers curl and pump into me like the world might end any second.
The wet sounds are lewd but tantalizing, and scorching heat spreads through my body.
I gasp when he suddenly pulls his fingers out and lifts them to his mouth. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the floor was giving out beneath me, and I was falling to the center of the earth. Nothing has ever looked sexier than this man savoring the taste of me like that.
“Why did you stop?” I whisper, breathless.
He spins me away from him. My hands flatten against the tiles, and he leans forward to lick droplets of water from my shoulder. When his hips press forward, his tip nudges through my wet center.
He groans and pushes forward a little more. “Because I need this right now.”