Page 20 of Finding Home (Willow Valley #1)

TWENTY

EVERETT

I ’m writing out the report for our latest call when there’s a knock at my door. I look up and see Chloe shifting from foot to foot as she watches me.

Shocked is an understatement for how I feel right now. I take her in, the way her hoodie fits her and her jeans hug her perfect legs. Her hair is up in a messy bun with little tendrils framing her makeup-free face. How is she single? I ask myself for not the first time since meeting her.

“Hey,” she says, finally breaking the silence that’s filling the space between us.

“Hey.”

She steps into my office, and I watch as she places a bag of cookies on my desk. I raise my brow at her.

“Your grandma asked me to drop them off after dinner. I knew if I didn’t, I’d eventually hear about it,” she rushes out.

“You saw my grandma?”

She sighs and nods. “Wasn’t given much of a choice. I went to say hi when she picked up Lila, and she basically told me I had to come to dinner. It wasn’t all bad, we had a charcuterie board and watched Tangled .”

“Lila picked,” I say, a smile pulling at my lips.

“Yeah. She was very insistent, didn’t even think to try and offer another option,” she says with a small laugh .

“It’s her favourite.”

She smiles, and I could stare at that every day for the rest of my life. The way her face lights up and her eyes sparkle with it.

“She told me. I’m more of a classics girl myself, but not a bad choice.”

I settle deeper in my chair as she feeds me this little tidbit about her. “What’s your favourite then?”

“ Aladdin . Jasmine was always so independent and ‘I don’t need a man.’ I looked up to her.”

“Is this you trying to tell me you don’t need a man?”

She steps closer and settles into one of the chairs on the other side of my desk.

“There’s a difference between needing and wanting a man.

I don’t need one. I can support myself, and I have plenty of friends to spend time with.

Wanting a partner in life, someone to experience intimacy with, that’s different. ”

I lean forward on my desk and watch as her breathing slowly increases and her eyes trace up my arms before meeting my eyes again. The way her eyes gently caress me has my dick getting hard.

“Do you want intimacy?” I ask, my voice lower than before.

She leans forward, her eyes holding mine.

“Who doesn’t? I don’t know a straight woman who doesn’t want a man who will eat her pussy like a man starved, fuck her like it’s the only thing that lets him survive, and then holds her after, whispering sweet nothings to her as she falls asleep in his arms.”

This forwardness from Chloe is new since I’ve come back to town.

It’s more reminiscent of when we first met and she forced me to talk to her and then stripped in front of me and asked if I was coming in.

The way her eyes heat and she licks her lips as she talks about getting eaten out and fucked tells me she’s thinking about our night.

The only thing missing from that scenario was me holding her and whispering sweet nothings to her afterwards.

Instead, I left with nothing more than a thank you and a kiss on her shoulder.

I hate myself for leaving that way, but we both knew it was just one night. Just sex. But then why do I keep thinking about it? Why am I looking for a repeat?

When I don’t say anything, she drops my gaze and sits back. “I should get going,” she says, pushing up from her chair .

“I’ll walk you out.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll walk you out, North.” I don’t know how I let the nickname slip, but it does and I try not to draw attention to it by standing and outstretching my arm for her to go first. She leaves my office, and I follow her to her car.

“I’ll see you at pick up tomorrow,” she says as she slides into the driver seat. I watch her do her seatbelt, and when she turns to reach for the door to close it, I say, “Text me when you’re home.”

“It’s a five-minute drive,” she says on a laugh.

I lean down. “I don’t care. Text me when you’re home.”

“Yes, daddy,” she says with a roll of her eyes, and I tighten my grip on the door.

I lean down and drop my voice, ensuring that no one around can hear me. “Be careful with what you say, Chloe. You don’t want to go asking for things you aren’t prepared for.”

I watch as her chest starts to rise and fall faster and her pupils grow. She licks her lips, and dammit if this woman isn’t everything I want and can’t have all wrapped in one beautiful package. I close the door and watch her drive away before stomping back into the fire house.

Thomspon is leaning against the door watching me.

I stop in front of him, arms crossed over my chest. “Something you’d like to say, Thomspon?” I grunt.

He shakes his head, a small grin playing at his lips as he says, “No, sir.”

I brush past him and head back into my office to finish my report and dig into those cookies Chloe brought.

After my shift, I make a stop at the grocery store to get everything I need to make chicken parm, or as my daughter affectionately calls it, cheesy chicken.

I know I make a mean chicken parm, so not only am I making it because it’s my daughter’s favourite, but also because, for some reason, I want to impress Chloe.

At home, I shower and take a quick nap, making sure to set my alarm to pick up Lila after school.

When I pick her up, I notice how Chloe hangs by the front door, making no moves to come say hi as Lila runs to join me.

I lift a hand in a small wave, and she offers me a smile and a small wave back before she turns and heads back inside.

I have dinner in the oven when Chloe eventually comes home a few hours later.

I would never say the words out loud to her, but she looks tired.

Like she hasn’t been able to get a good night’s rest in a while.

I open a bottle of red wine and pour a glass, handing it to her as she walks past me in the kitchen.

She smiles, accepting the glass and taking a sip before sliding into a chair at the dining table and facing me.

“Smells good. Watcha making?”

Lila’s footsteps approach the kitchen as she cheers, “Cheesy chicken, cheesy chicken!”

Chloe and I both can’t help but laugh at her excitement.

“Daddy, are we having potatoes or pasta with cheesy chicken tonight?”

“What does Miss Chloe want?” I ask.

Her hand pauses with her glass halfway to her mouth. “Oh! I’m not picky. Unless you want me to cook them, then I’m picky,” she says with a soft laugh.

I shake my head. “Not asking you to cook anything, North. Just asking for an opinion.”

She raises a brow at me before looking over to Lila quickly and then back to me. “Pasta would probably work best.”

I nod and get to work. Chloe and Lila chat at the table while I finish making dinner, and when it’s ready, I plate it and place it in front of the girls. They immediately dig in, and Lila does her happy dance in her seat.

Lila hums around her fork as she takes a bite. “My favourite,” she says as she goes in for more.

Chloe full on moans around her fork, and it fills me with an overwhelming sense of pride, and it forces me to adjust myself in my pants .

“This is the best chicken parm I’ve ever had,” she says as she repetitively points her fork at her plate.

“Thank you.”

“See,” Lila says. “Daddy is a really good cook.”

Chloe smiles at her. “You’re right, he is.”

I feel myself fucking blush. Me. Blush. What the fuck?

But something about having Chloe compliment me has my cheeks heating and me ducking my head in the hope she won’t see it.

Both girls completely clear their plates, and I watch as Chloe runs her finger over the last portion of sauce on her plate before she sucks it into her mouth.

I close my eyes, trying to avoid looking at her, but I can’t. My eyes open again, and I watch as she releases her finger from her mouth with a grin.

“Daddy, I’m done. Can I go play with my toys again?”

“Yeah, Peanut. Go ahead.”

She takes her plate to the kitchen counter beside the sink before she makes her way upstairs.

I can’t move from my seat, because if I do, Chloe is going to get an eyeful of what her sucking on her finger did to me.

I shuffle in my seat, and I swear to God she smirks before she leans over and grabs my plate and says, “You cooked, I’ll clean. ”

All I can manage is a grunt as she leaves the table, and I close my eyes and start reciting the last twenty first-round picks in the NHL draft. When I’ve finally gotten my dick under control. I leave the table and start wiping it down.

When we both finish, Chloe turns and faces me. “Thanks for dinner. It was amazing.”

“Of course,” I say.

“So, my mom said that dinner tomorrow works perfectly. She asked that we’re at her place by six thirty. I can text you the address,” she says.

“Why don’t we just ride there together?”

She swallows and nods. “Yeah, I guess that works.”

We stand there staring at each other, neither of us saying anything until Chloe finally breaks the silence. “I’m, um, I’m gonna get ready for bed,” she says and walks past me .

I watch her leave, not once looking over her shoulder, and my shoulders slump. I take a deep breath and head upstairs to find Lila, hoping to spend a little bit of time with her before I need to get her ready for bed.