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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

AMELIA

W e don’t eat that fast, it turns out. Because even with the promise of dirty, cinnamon roll sex waiting for me at the end, I find myself wanting to drag out dinner.

To sit here in Elliot’s pretty kitchen eating amazing tacos he made for me, drinking Diet Pepsi out of the most perfect mug in existence, and talking about everything and nothing while Killer winds between our feet under the table waiting for us to slip her little bites of chicken.

Home.

The word has been buzzing in my brain all night, and sitting here with the remnants of dinner spread between us, it just gets louder.

This is home. Elliot is home. I know it with more certainty than I’ve ever known anything, and I can see it so clearly.

Quick weekday breakfasts and lazy dinners where we catch up on our days.

Long nights spent wrapped around each other.

All of it here, in this place. His place that I hope maybe one day can be our place.

I want that. I want it all. With him.

I may not know exactly where I’m going professionally, and I’m still keeping so many secrets from my family, and there’s that very big one we’re both keeping from Dean Miller and everyone else at school, but I do know this. And even though it might seem fast, it settles me right down to my bones.

“What’s that look?” Elliot asks, yanking me out of my thoughts.

“What look?”

He reaches across the table and takes my hand, his free hand stroking up and down the ankle I have propped up on his chair. “It looks like you’re thinking big thoughts. Bigger thoughts than weeknight tacos in the kitchen.”

I shrug. “I was just thinking that it’s nice—sitting here with you over a Tuesday night dinner for no reason at all. And also that I hit the freaking jackpot because you’re an amazing cook, and I hate cooking with the fire of a thousand suns. How did you learn?”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “My mom. As soon as my brothers and I were old enough, she made us each responsible for one dinner a week. She didn’t care what we made, as long as we handled everything from making sure we had the necessary ingredients to setting the table and cleaning up afterwards.

” He shrugs, looking a little sheepish and absolutely adorable.

“My brothers complained mercilessly about it, and I did too, but mostly just because complaining about shit my mom made us do was what we did. The truth is, I loved it. Something about taking care of people made me happy, even as a kid. And honestly, I think my brothers also secretly loved it because they all cook now too. Well, at least Jordan and Noah do. Cooper is the worst cook on earth.”

I smile and squeeze his hand back. “I’m taking notes in case I ever have kids. I think your mom is my hero.”

Elliot’s face goes soft when I mention his mom and gah, it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. “She’s the best. Do you want kids?”

I lean forward with my elbows on the table, propping my chin in my hands. He looks so serious asking that question that I can’t help but rib him a little. “That’s an awfully serious question to ask when we’ve only been dating for a couple of months, El.”

He grins at me. “Brat. A couple months or a couple years wouldn’t make one bit of difference and you know it. Baby, you were mine the second I saw you in that airport, and you’re mine now.”

I shrug, trying to hide the way his possessive streak turns me all the way on and also settles me at the same time. “When you’re right, you’re right. And yeah, I definitely want kids.” I give him a sly look. “With the right person.”

In one quick move, Elliot yanks my ankle to bring my chair closer to him, and, in a move that immediately ruins my underwear, plucks me off of it and settles me on his lap, straddling him.

He drops his mouth to my neck and sucks lightly, running one finger over the seam of my leggings right over my pussy, chuckling when I gasp.

“What was that about the right person?” he asks, putting just enough pressure on my clit to make me squirm over his hand. “Because I promise, Amelia, no one is more right for you than I am. Do I need to prove it to you right here in my kitchen?”

I shift on his lap, achy and needy and searching for friction. “I mean, I think now you kind of have to,” I joke. “Put those magic fingers to good use, El.”

He smirks at me before he leans in and slams his lips to mine, his tongue licking into my mouth at the same time as his hand slides under my waistband.

Before I can even grasp what’s happening, he plunges two fingers straight inside me.

“Fuck,” I groan out, practically levitating off his lap when he grinds his palm up on my clit.

“Later,” he says, cupping the back of my neck with his free hand, keeping his eyes locked on mine while his hand works me over. “Right now, I want to feel this perfect pussy come all over my fingers. Then you’re going to watch while I lick them clean.”

“Kiss me,” I practically beg, so turned on by Elliot’s dirty mouth and the wicked way his fingers curl and twist inside me that I think I might actually die.

“No,” he practically growls, his hand tightening on the back of my neck.

“I want to watch you when you come for me. The way your eyes glaze over when you’re lost in the pleasure only I can give you is the hottest fucking thing in the world, and it belongs to me.

Ride my hand, baby. Show me how much you want this, too. ”

I can feel Elliot’s hard cock against my ass as I grind down on his fingers, and the combination of the way he touches me and the evidence of how this is affecting him too has me spiraling higher.

He pulls his fingers out and then presses back in with three, fucking me with them mercilessly, despite the limited space he has with his hand literally in my pants.

“Oh, my god,” I moan when he shoves his fingers deeper, hitting a spot that has my entire body lighting up. “Please don’t stop.”

“Never,” Elliot grits out, pushing his palm more firmly against my clit. “I don’t stop until your cum is soaking my fingers. Give it to me, Amelia.”

I grasp Elliot’s waist, grinding down on his lap and rolling my hips, riding his hand exactly the way he asked me to.

Arousal buzzes in my veins and my breaths saw in and out of my lungs and the entire time, Elliot’s eyes never leave mine.

The current between us is heady and intense and full of massive feelings and unsaid words.

And then there is nothing but me and him and the pleasure rushing through me.

Elliot curls his fingers, rubbing against my front wall, and a moan tears from my throat as my orgasm crashes over me.

“That’s my girl,” Elliot murmurs as I roll my hips against him, working myself through my orgasm. “You’re gorgeous when you come for me.”

I’m still panting, my heart hammering as he pulls his fingers out of me and slowly, one by one, puts them into his mouth, sucking them clean.

His eyes drop closed, and he inhales deeply, like my cum is the best thing he’s ever tasted, and the look of ferocity on his face is almost enough to make me come again.

He opens his eyes again, tangling his hand in my hair and pressing his mouth to mine, sliding his tongue against mine so I can taste myself on his lips.

I moan against him, plastering my body to his and taking the kiss as deep as I can, spurred on by some primal urge I can’t name and don’t understand.

And I know Elliot feels what I feel because his cock pulses under me and he wraps an arm around my waist, bringing us even closer together.

“That was unexpected and perfect,” I gasp when we finally break apart, my body collapsing against his. He wraps his arms around me, and he presses a kiss to my hair.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting kisses over my forehead. “I can’t wait to have you spread over my bed later so I can worship every inch of you properly.”

“I don’t know,” I mumble against his chest. “That felt pretty worshipful to me. But you did promise me dirty things with cinnamon rolls, so that’s a promise I hope you’ll keep.”

Elliot laughs and tightens his arms around me. “I always keep my promises.”

“You’re my favorite.”

“And you’re mine.” His voice is so serious that I sit up so I can look at him, and the emotions swirling in his eyes have my breath catching.

“Ames, I…” The beeping of my phone cuts off whatever he was about to say, and he closes his eyes, shaking his head as if to clear it.

When he opens them again, whatever was there is gone now, the moment broken.

A little shaken, I reach over and grab my phone, unlocking it. And as soon as I look at the screen, I’m shaken for an entirely different reason. “Oh, my god,” I breathe.

“What is it?” Elliot asks, his face a mask of concern.

I look up at him, grin spreading over my face. “Henry’s family. We’ve got them. Look.”

I hand him my phone, and his eyes scan the screen, his brow furrowed in concentration. “He has two daughters. Grandchildren. Great-grandchildren.”

I nod. “He does. And they’re all in Rockport, Maine, where Henry died.”

“That’s only, like, three hours from here,” Elliot says, thoughtfully. “I thought maybe just knowing that they exist would be enough for me, but it’s definitely not.”

I burst out laughing. “Do you even know you? That would never have been enough. You’re a scientist, El, and this is a mystery. You would never have been satisfied until you solved it.”

“Do you think we can? Solve it, I mean,” he says when I give him a quizzical look.

I shrug, setting my phone down on the table.

“I mean, you didn’t know about it until you found the letters, and neither did Cece or your mom, so it stands to reason Henry might not have told his family the same way your great-grandmother didn’t tell hers, but you never know.

And you definitely won’t know unless you ask. So, what do you want to do?”

A grin spreads over his face. “Want to take a road trip?”

I lean in and kiss both of his cheeks, brushing his hair off his forehead, because he is so damn adorable. “With you? Always. But I think maybe you should try and get in touch with them first. Showing up randomly might be a little weird.”

Elliot leans in and smothers my face in kisses until I’m laughing hysterically. “See, that’s why I need you. You’re the smart one. I think there’s also something else we should do first.”

“What’s that?”

He leans past me and grabs his phone, unlocking it and showing me his family group chat. “It’s time to call in the troops.”