Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Austin
THE RIDE BACK TO MY house was heaven and hell, tangled together in a beautiful mess.
The heaven of tasting Elle for the first time was a moment I’d dreamed of for far too long—her thick, sweet lips; the softness of her skin; the flavor of her.
I would never forget it for as long as I lived.
I needed more, but couldn’t stop thinking about how far I should let things go before telling her my truth.
That was my hell.
“As the cold weather event of the season sets its sights on northern Chicago and the surrounding areas, local airports brace for extensive delays. Expect temperatures to plunge overnight and into tomorrow morning,” a woman’s voice spouted from my TV above the fireplace, formally delivering the news I couldn’t wait to hear.
Not only did it mean I’d have more time with Elle, but it also meant her reunion with Jesse would be delayed.
Both scenarios delighted me more than they should have.
“I hope Hotel Carterson has a vacancy for a few more days because this isn’t looking good,” Elle hinted.
She sat on the couch beside me, twirling a stray thread still attached to her pants.
Her reclined position told me she was cozy in the sweatshirt I’d bought for her.
She knew she was welcome to stay as long as needed.
Her continued playfulness after our kiss let me know she was as comfortable with the situation as I was.
“I’ll have to ask the manager, but I’m sure he won’t mind having a pretty blonde hanging around a few more days …” I teased. Was that lame?
She smiled. God, did she smile. I could think of a million other words to use instead of pretty, but she truly was the prettiest woman I’d ever seen. Her shoulders and cold-kissed cheekbones rose in tandem.
When did I start noticing weird things like that on women?
Oh yeah, two years ago, when she had walked into my office and fucking rocked my world in an instant.
“This is the coldest weather I’ve ever experienced, and it hasn’t even started yet. Should I be worried?”
Her plaid blanket vibrated, her thin Florida skin unable to warm her fully. The heat was on now, which I rarely used because who didn’t prefer a fireplace? I wasn’t lighting it unless she specifically asked me to though because it would start an impossible-to-extinguish frenzy deep in my groin.
We sat on the same corduroy couch in my living room that my body had relaxed on thousands of times before. Only this time, Elle sat close enough for me to touch. To practically taste.
To worship, if she’d let me.
I shifted, covering my umpteenth cock bulge of the day with a second throw blanket. Resisting her was becoming increasingly more difficult, especially after I’d learned she enjoyed our kiss as much as I did. Her excitement fueled my unrelenting desire.
My grandmother had taught me that life was about timing, like how lobster bisque tasted better after you spent a long day out on the water. And as much as I wanted it to be the right time for us to take another step, I feared it was too soon for Elle. Patience was the name of our game.
I needed more practice playing it so I didn’t mess things up.
“So, Chicago boy, what do you usually do when you get snowed in here?”
She lightly sipped the hot chocolate I’d made for her when we got home, leaving a creamy sheen on her top lip.
My secret was topping it with cereal marshmallows instead of regular ones—a game changer.
Her secret was keeping her eyes glued to mine while she repeatedly sipped as if she were sucking my …
How could I get through the night without touching her again?
I couldn’t.
“You wouldn’t know this because you’re a Florida girl, but as long as there’s firewood to keep warm, that’s all you really need,” I answered.
“What about food? Water? Entertainment?” Concern circled her brows as they crowded the middle of her forehead. She gripped the top of her blanket and pulled it, along with her knees, closer to her, like she was listening to a scary story at a sleepover party.
If she thought I wasn’t prepared to keep her safe in the event we got snowed in, she was mistaken. I could keep her safe forever.
“If you have wood to keep a fire going, you can hunt and gather, cook food, boil water—not to mention the fun of chopping it. It keeps you plenty busy. You don’t need electricity or internet. If you have heat, you have life.” I beamed.
Survival scenarios made me feel closer to my grandfather, who’d prepared me for almost anything.
Aside from my self-inflicted, Elle-centered predicament, of course.
“You look like you chop wood, but I didn’t realize you actually chopped wood. That’s cute,” she chirped, grinning through another sip of chocolate comfort.
“Cute?”
My dream girl did not just call wood splitting cute.
“I meant … manly,” she corrected, likely in response to my foul expression.
“It’s a super manly activity. I just … I sort of tried to imagine Jesse chopping wood, and it’s quite comical to picture.
More on the cute side.” She paused before adding, “He was never really the outdoorsy, chop-his-own-firewood type.”
Relief overtook the cuteness she had referred to because I agreed. Jesse chopping wood would be pretty cute.
The opposite of what I looked like while doing it.
“Maybe when we run out of my stash there”—I pointed at the stacked stockpile crowding the corner of the room—“I can show you my woodshed and how me splitting wood is anything but cute.” I bit down on my tongue to physically stop it from detailing what I wanted to do to her in there.
Every step deeper Elle took into my world made things feel more intimate. I could no longer picture my life returning to the way it was without her.
“Wait, you have a real woodshed? That’s amazing. I’d love to see it!” She looked toward the ash-ridden fireplace and then back at me. Her face grew puzzled.
Don’t ask me to light it, don’t ask me to light it … I thought.
“I might be a Florida girl, but to burn through logs, don’t you have to light them first?”
Damn it.
“Yes, that is how it works. I thought we’d hold off until tomorrow. You know, to celebrate you being stuck here and all.” Another lie.
“Smart. Better save our resources, huh?” She nodded.
I loved how she followed my lead.
She trusted me.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” I said. However, it wasn’t exactly what I had been thinking because what I was thinking involved lighting the stupid fireplace immediately, staring at every inch of her naked body, and studying the light that danced across each curve.
My tongue was dying to do the same thing.
Elle broke my trance when she yawned, stood, and emerged from the blanket she’d cocooned herself in. She placed her empty mug on the coffee table. Chocolate hid in the corner of her mouth.
Yeah, you know where I’m going with that …
“Would you mind if I took a bath and changed into something more comfortable? Now that I have my suitcase and pajamas, that fancy tub in the bathroom is calling my name. I need to touch base with Ruthie anyway. She was supposed to pick me up from the airport tomorrow.”
“Of course. Take your time.” I cleared my throat.
Hearing the word bath come out of Elle’s mouth made me picture her in it.
Sprawled out and covered in suds. I ground my molars together, hoping she wouldn’t notice how aggressively my nostrils flared.
“Should I wait up, or should we call it a night?” I asked.
My voice echoed, my remaining composure fighting for its life as she walked away.
The way she looked back toward me could have killed me, almost like she didn’t want to leave me behind.
“I won’t keep you up, but I’ll come and say good night.”
Her words were free of the caution I’d expected. Instead, a silent promise ran through them. A promise that our night wasn’t over quite yet.
I exhaled. “I’ll be here.”
I’ll be here all right.
Thinking about her.