Page 14 of Feels Like Falling
Disconnecting the call, I let all of the unrest go as I scroll through my playlists until I find “Keep Up” by RaeLynn, shimmying a little in my seat as her voice echoes through the car.
This is exactly what I need to get me home.
My spirit sings with each passing mile, and by the time I pass the sign welcoming me to Blackstone Falls, I have enough bravado to take a gamble. If it pays off, it might just be the best welcome home present a girl could ask for.
6
MONTANA
“Dammit, cat!” I grunt as the black-and-white ball of fur flies past me off the porch and out into the yard, nearly knocking me off my feet in the process.
“Was that Buttons?” Grandad asks as he steps out of the screen door and peers down at a bowl of untouched food and water.
Sighing, I say, “Grandad, it’s been almost twoyearssince Buttons ran away. I don’t think that was her.”
“It was her, all right.”
The conviction in my grandfather’s voice makes my heart squeeze. He loved that cat, and while I’d heard plenty of miracle stories about pets returning to their homes after long absences, I couldn’t imagine this being one of them.
“Grandad,” I say gently, but he harumphs and holds up his hand.
“It was her. You’ll see.” My eyes move to where Celeste is drying a dish just inside the house. She gives me a sad smile before turning back toward the kitchen. I drag my palm down my face as I try and figure out how to prepare for the impending emotional crash.
My mind drifts to Vetted Paws, the local animal shelter over in Clementine Creek. They’re primarily a dog rescue, but I’m sure if I give them a call they can find me a cat for Grandad so he stops hanging his heart on the hope that Buttons has magically returned.
“You’ll see,” he repeats before heading inside, the slight slap of the screen door echoing around me as I pray for patience. Losing that damn cat had been hard enough, but having to endure it a second time would just be cruel.
Taking a breath, I go inside, leaving my boots on the mat in the entryway. The house smells like brisket and cornbread, and my mouth waters as I stalk toward the stove and drop a kiss on Celeste’s cheek.
She smiles and I nod before taking off down the hall toward my room. I need a shower, and I need to wash this day away if I have any chance of being ready for Ellison’s arrival in town.
My best friend coming home shouldn’t be a big deal.
But she’s not just my best friend. She’s my person and the kind of girl that drives you crazy but still makes you want to claim her forever.
My lips twitch as I strip off my shirt and toss it into the hamper with the rest of my clothes. Flipping on the shower, I wait as the water warms to something reasonable, my gaze jumping to my reflection in the mirror. Looking around, I flex my absoncebut it has nothing to do with Ellison coming home.
Absolutely nothing.
Tattoos cover my shoulders, wrapping around one bicep and onto my back. They’re pieces of me that Ellison wasn’t here for, which is both sad and exhilarating. I want her to get to know me again.
I want her towantto get to know me again.
To trace the ink on my skin with her fingers, her mouth, and her tongue and ask me what they mean as she reacquaints herself with my body.
My dick bumping the sink has me jerking back a step and chuckling as I turn for the shower. I tried hard over the years not to let my mind conjure images of Ellison and me together—because even though we’d been young, that one night together had been incredible. It was cliché and a little awkward and absolutely perfect.
That memory does nothing to help keep my dick in check as the hot spray washes over me, my muscles practically groaning in relief. I’ve pushed myself harder every day in the fields this week in anticipation of her arrival.
Idle hands would only get me into trouble, and I have no doubt Ellison will bring plenty of that to my doorstep.
My lips twitch as I lather myself up with the soap that Bea makes, and I’m not ashamed to say Ilikehow it makes my body feel. This one is green tea and something woodsy I can’t remember. It’s smooth and silky against my skin and does nothing to ease how hard I am right now.
It’s not even a choice when my hand wraps firmly around my dick and I pump it once, holding my fist at the head for a few seconds before sliding down to the base and doing it again. It’s torture because I want it to be her. I want her legs wrapped around my waist as I drive into her over and over, her tits bouncing as she screams my name.
Fuck.
The rhythm and pressure and the fuckingfantasyhave me on the verge of coming in no time. Pressing my lips together, I swallow the litany of curses that want to escape as I paint the tile with my release.
