Chapter 45 Hattie
HATTIE
The quiet is the first thing I notice when I wake up.
It’s still a bit unsettled, but softer than the hollow silence that’s been hanging heavy in the air for the last two days. I don’t quite know how to process it yet as I rub the sleep from my eyes.
When I look up, all I see is Gage and Blythe’s ceiling.
The past forty-eight hours have blurred together in fragments—boots kicked off by the door in a messy pile, borrowed blankets strewn about the living room, and the low murmur of voices long after midnight.
Someone is always awake. Someone is always making coffee.
Everyone is grasping for every bit of familiarity they can while pretending they’re fine.
The guys have been more still than I’ve ever seen them. Something foundational shifted under their feet when that bunkhouse went down, and I don’t think they’ve figured out how to stand without it. I don’t blame them one bit for walking around like broken versions of themselves ever since.
The girls and I have been moving around them with as much normalcy as possible. Filling space. It hasn’t been easy since we all loved that special place, too. It wasn’t just a building for any of us; it was an anchor in all of our lives.
Losing it hit the guys harder, though. We haven’t admitted that out loud to each other, but there’s been an understanding between us girls that the best thing we can do right now is try to keep things steady.
A slow inhale fills my lungs as I push myself up onto my elbows, and that’s when I feel a solid warmth weighing down my middle section. Heston.
I smile down at his arm draped low across my waist. My fingers trace over his sun-tanned skin and faint scars.
The slow rise and fall of his chest tells me he’s been exhausted from a lifetime’s worth of emotion lately.
He’s normally up at the crack of dawn, but the sun is peeking through the windows, and his lids are still closed with the kind of sleep that only comes when your body finally gives out after holding too much for too long.
I carefully shift my body enough to glance over my shoulder and get a better look at him.
The tension that usually lives between his brows is barely detectable, and his mouth is relaxed in a way that makes my heart feel like it might burst because I know not very many people have ever, or will ever, see him like this but me.
I twist to face him and hover my lips over his. He doesn’t startle or pull away. If anything, his grip tightens as if his body can register my proximity without even needing to be fully conscious yet.
I’m not sure how I survived as long as I did without seeing him like this.
Feeling him like this. It might feel like the world is ending outside, but as long as he and I are together, I know everything is going to be okay.
Not a single thing could make me doubt it, and I missed this sense of safety and contentment more than words can describe.
“Don’t,” he murmurs, voice rough and groggy.
I freeze with raised brows. “Don’t what?”
He leans forward to brush his nose against my shoulder as he exhales. “Don’t move.”
A smile tugs at my mouth. “What’s the point in waking up next to you if I can’t kiss you?”
“Don’t want to wake up yet.” He pulls me in closer with a hand at my lower back.
“Good luck with that,” I whisper, ghosting my lips over the shell of his ear.
Granger cuts the quiet with a loud yelp from across the living room, and my skin tingles as Heston groans sleepily against my shoulder.
My eyes flick up to see Tripp standing over the kid with an open bottle of water in his hand.
He tips it over to splash more liquid on his head.
I laugh as Granger thrashes on his pillow with his legs kicking the blanket into the air.
“What the fuck!” He sits up and scrubs a hand down his dripping-wet face. “Are you insane?”
“No,” Tripp answers with a smirk. “Just bored. Let’s go.”
Gage comes down the steps a moment later, holding a pair of faded yellow leather gloves in his hands. “Dumpsters are going to be delivered in an hour.”
“Clean up day?” Granger asks, sitting up.
I feel bad that there wasn’t an extra blow-up mattress for him, especially because he’s still sporting bandages.
There are two small burns—one on his brow and the other on the side of his neck.
The larger one is on his right forearm, wrapped in a single giant protective wrap.
He gets major brownie points from me for spreading out on the floor after Lucky claimed the recliner.
Heston and I put up an air mattress, and Tripp and Mesa slept on the big sectional. In hindsight, putting the biggest guy in the house on an inflatable bed wasn’t the smartest choice. I giggle, glancing at his feet hanging off the end.
Warren and Savannah hung out in here as long as they could both nights, but eventually wandered off to the guest room. Gage convinced Blythe that no one would be upset if they went up to their room to sleep instead of joining the downstairs slumber party.
“Yep,” Gage confirms with a dejected sigh. “It’s gonna suck, but better to get it over with than look at a pile of burnt wood all week.”
“I’ll get all of the chores taken care of if y’all want to get a head start on it,” Granger says.
Gage quirks a brow, but tries to hide how impressed he is by the kid’s offer. Heston lifts his head, wearing a similar expression. I roll my lips into my mouth, but it doesn’t conceal my smile entirely.
Somehow, Granger has soaked up the dynamic over the last month like a dry sponge tossed in a bucket of water. Fitting in so quickly isn’t an easy feat, knowing how particular Gage is about how things run on his ranch. He nods, making the kid grin from ear to ear.
I loop my arms around Heston’s neck. “Are you awake now?” He reluctantly nods, but doesn’t release his firm hold around my waist. “Come on,” I add with a light laugh. “Big day ahead.”
I smile before he leans in and captures my mouth.
The gentle press of his lips is a sweet contrast to the rough hand on my hip and the strength of his large body against mine.
As much as I love his domineering side, I crave the softer moments like this with him.
It’s rare that he shows this side of himself, and I thread my fingers through the dark hair at the back of his head to savor the feeling.
The kiss lasts longer than a routine peck, and I can’t stop the heat from spreading through my body. The instinct to pull him on top of me to feel closer to him has never been more inconvenient than it is right now.
When he parts his lips to slip his tongue over mine, I nearly melt into the floor. The second I give in to the urge to arch my back, he pulls away from my mouth.
His voice is low and gravely as he skims his lips over my jaw. “Not a fan of this sleepover in a room full of people shit.”
“That’s because you’re no fun,” I tease with a whisper.
“Yes, I am,” he defends, dipping his hand beneath my t-shirt to smooth it over my rib cage. “It’s just that my version of fun is fucking you before breakfast.”
“B, where’s the bacon?” Warren calls out, reminding me that we’re not alone.
“We’re out,” Blythe answers as she descends the stairs and floats through the kitchen, dark blonde hair falling in soft waves down her back. “There should be two packages of sausage in there somewhere, though. Check behind the cheese in the drawer.”
Warren pulls the sausage and a carton of eggs from the fridge while Blythe fetches two frying pans from a lower cabinet. Savvy is perched on the counter, one leg swinging as she scrolls through her phone.
The smell of fresh coffee grounds wafts into the living room. It’s strong enough to clear my head and stand to drag Heston to his feet from the cocoon of blankets we were tangled in. He groans in protest, and my arms circle his waist when he pushes back his shoulders in a deep stretch.
“After we wrap things up today, let’s go stay at Solana Bluffs,” I suggest, peering up at him. “I know you probably don’t want to leave the ranch, but maybe it’d be good to get away for the night and sleep in a real bed.”
He lets out a long, tired exhale and plants one more kiss on my lips. “Wherever you want to go, I’ll go too.”
His statement is laced with deeper meaning, making me want to tighten my arms and cling to him as if we were magnetized. The only thing that stops me is a grumble from my empty stomach. He chuckles and leads me into the kitchen.
Savannah and I make quick eye contact as we pass the island she’s sitting on.
She nods, and I flick my gaze over to Blythe, who gives me a quick thumbs up.
Heston is pulling two plates from the cabinet when Mesa enters the room with a smile on her face.
She waits until none of the guys are looking to shoot me a wink.
I take a breath of relief and smile as Heston jumps in to help Warren cook.
It’s agonizing to know that there’s nothing we can do to bring back the bunkhouse.
But the girls and I put in a big effort to make sure the boys felt extra love as they’re processing the loss and going through the motions of picking up the pieces today.
The aftermath will be emotionally rough, regardless. I just hope the show of support helps lessen the sting.