Page 2 of Finding Home
He nods. “I’ll put the coffee on.”
Before he can walk away, I find myself saying, “I’ll get her home.”
She’s not that drunk, and this town is small enough that I’m sure I could walk her home before heading to the motel. Nothing is that far in this place.
He gives her a look, silently asking her if she’s okay with it, and when she smiles at me, he heads back to the bar, returning with our bills. We settle up, and Chloe slides out of the booth. She doesn’t stumble or fall, a sign that even though she shouldn’t drive, she’s pretty sober. I make my way to the door and hold it open for her, and we step into the warm summer air. It’s the end of July, and we’re about to hit the peak heat of the summer. The wildfires haven’t been too bad this year, but they can pop up at any time, either from humans not being safe or natural occurrences like lightning.
Even though it’s cooled down a bit tonight, it’s muggy and I’m sure a walk will have my shirt sticking my to skin. Chloe heads in the direction I’m assuming leads to her place.
I don’t know why I offered to walk her home. I need to sleep off those beers before hitting the road, but something about the thought of her sitting in that bar, drinking coffee while men drank and gawked at her, didn’t sit well with me. I’m not sure if she even noticed all the men who couldn’t take their eyes off her tonight, but I sure as fuck did. A few even had the stones to glower my way as she smiled at me. That almost had me smiling back, and it was weird. I don't smile unless it's at my daughter. This woman sucks up the miserable energy in a room and replaces it with happiness, and Idon’t know how I feel about that. I’m a creature of habit. I like my routines, for things to stay the way they are. I’m not looking forward to this move as it is. I don’t need anything else in my life changing.
"Thank you for walking me home," she says beside me.
I grunt in response, but it doesn't deter her from continuing.
"It's been drilled into my head for years that even though we live in such a small town, I should never walk home alone, even if it's only fifteen minutes," she says with a half laugh.
Whoever told her that is right. You hear the same horror stories of the things that can happen to a woman walking alone at night no matter where you are, but it hits differently in a small town. Everyone thinks they're safe until they're not.
I watch as she tips her head back, stopping as she stares up at the night sky. "I missed this," she says wistfully.
I stop beside her, close enough that our arms almost brush. I feel a spark go through me as I look up at the sky too. There are stars as far as the eye can see, and it hits me that I was probably a kid the last time I saw them. Living in the city surrounded by lights makes it impossible now.
She leans closer, our arms brushing; I hear her intake of breath, but she doesn't move. She continues to stare up at the sky as if my body doesn't feel like it's on fire from the simple brush of her skin against mine.
"This is one of the things I missed when I left for school," she whispers, so quietly, I almost miss it. She gives her head an almost imperceptible shake before she continues walking, turning her smile to me as she asks, "So, where are you from?"
I don’t know why I want to talk to Chloe. For years, I’ve avoided any conversation with people, especially small talk with strangers, but there’s something about her that has me not minding it. That has me wanting to answer her question.
"All over," I say, and she raises a brow. I grip the back of my neck. "My parents had us moving all over the place, so I’ve never really had one place to call home." I hate talking about my parents. I’m surprised she managed to get that much out of me.
Chloe must be great at reading people, because she doesn’t push it any further, doesn’t ask questions. She just lets us walk the rest ofthe way to her place in silence. Her fingers slightly brush against mine as we walk, and I watch as she gnaws on her bottom lip. An almost imperceptible trace of pink dusts her cheeks, and I want to know what she's thinking.
She lives right on the edge of Willow Lake, above what looks like the local coffee shop. Chloe unlocks a door on the side of the building, revealing a staircase, and I follow her up, watching as she unlocks the door at the top before facing me.
She releases her lip from between her teeth before nodding slightly, as if she was pondering something and came to a decision. She reaches behind her and opens the door as her eyes meet mine, and she slowly backs in. She drops her bag on the floor, and as I open my mouth to wish her goodnight, her hands find the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it up her body, exposing her taught stomach, then her bra. I was right—it’s lace.
My mouth has suddenly gone dry as I take her in. She’s standing so confidently before me as her hands find the button of her shorts and flick it open. I should turn around and rush down those stairs, get the fuck out of here, but I can’t take my eyes off her. Her skin is flawless, save for a small scar over her right hipbone.
She shoves her shorts to the floor and steps out of them. I can’t take my eyes off her.
"You gonna stand there, or are you going to come in and maybe help me out of the rest of this?" she asks, eyebrow raised.
As much as I know I shouldn’t, I step inside the door, kicking it closed and stalking towards her. I watch her pulse pick up in her neck with each step I take.
She’s not short, only about six inches shorter than my six-foot-three, but standing toe to toe with her, she has to tip her head back to meet my eyes. As she does, heat flashes in hers, likely matching my own. I’ve always had a thing for confident women, and even though I’ve avoided them for the last five years, there’s no way I can walk away from Chloe right now.
Holding eye contact with her, I reach back and, with one hand, pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. Her eyes leave mine, and she takes her time roving them over my chest and stomach.I’m a firefighter, I’m fit, but the way she does it adds something to my confidence.
Once she’s gotten her fill, my finger finds the underside of her chin and forces her eyes to mine.
"How do you want this?" I ask, my voice coming out gruff.
She licks her lips, and my eyes track the movement.
"Rough," she whispers, and my thumb moves to her chin. I tighten my grip, and her eyes widen with arousal that goes straight to my dick.
"Are you sure?"
