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Chapter 18

Stella

“ W hat time did he say he was going to be here?” Miles asks as he paces around the bakery for the seventy-fourth time in the last half hour.

“He should be here any minute. He said he would meet us here at eleven and it’s still ten to,” I say, looking down at my phone to make sure I haven’t missed a text from Dennis.

“Well, the motherfucker needs to hurry up. I’m ready to fire him.”

“Why do you get to fire him?” I say, doing my best to hide a smirk because I’d very much prefer not to be the one to do it, and what kind of friend would I be if I took that simple joy away from him?

He stops pacing for a second to look back at me, his eyebrow quirked as he just waits.

“Fine. We both know I don’t want to be the one to do it, but damn, you don’t just get to assume.”

Walking back over to me, he drops his hand to my waist, looking down at me with a smirk, and I feel myself melting in his hold. “I don’t?” he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth.

“No. Assumptions aren’t nice.”

“But…what if I assumed that you wanted me to kiss you…would that be…mean?”

“Yes,” I breathe out, the word thick as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over mine.

“Is it safe to assume that if I felt between those pretty legs of yours, that I’d find you soaking wet for me?”

“N-no,” I lie, squeezing my thighs together as another wave of wetness soaks my panties.

“Tsk, tsk,” he says, a smirk now playing on his lips. “We’re going to have to work on your lying, Trouble, especially if we’re going to be doing more of it when we get back to New York.”

I smile, unable to help it, because although we’ve talked about not wanting to stop whatever the hell this is, I still wasn’t sure what was going to happen when we got back home. Hearing him say that, even if I do hate the idea of lying to our friends, is exciting as fuck.

Closing the distance between us, I kiss him, pressing my lips to his before he can make the first move. Hey, I told him he couldn’t assume, but I never said I couldn’t. The instant our lips touch, his hands move into my hair, immediately making this more intense as he takes control of the kiss. With one hand still on my hip, he pulls me closer until our bodies are flush, his tongue tangling with mine in a way that makes me not even sure where I’m at right now.

What year is it?

Why are we here?

I’d much prefer that we were back upstairs, still naked in bed…preferably with his dick still inside of me.

It’s been a few days since the tension finally snapped between us, since we went from toeing the line to full on pole-vaulting over the damn thing, and I don’t regret a thing. Although I hate assumptions, based on the way he’s kissing me right now, his hands gripping me tight enough that I’m bound to have marks, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t regret a damn thing either.

Will it be difficult when we are back home? Obviously, but those are conversations we can have later. Right now, in Nashville, we are hiding away in our own little bubble where we can do whatever, or whoever, we want without having to answer to anyone around us.

Ding. My phone chimes.

Pulling back, I look down at it on the counter

Dennis: Pulling in now. See you soon.

“That man has the worst fucking timing,” Miles says, looking down at me with a smirk, his hair messy from my fingers running through it, and he looks sexy as hell.

“We could always just cancel. Text him and tell him to get fucked so we could go get fucked?” I say, batting my eyelashes hoping to sway him.

“I think I’d prefer to see his face when we do it, but we can make it quick and then we can go celebrate.”

“Fine,” I grumble, pouting up at him.

“Put your lip away before a bird poops on it,” he chides, jokingly.

“We’re inside; there aren’t any birds in here, silly.”

“Fine, Trouble…put your lip away before I bite it. It’s taking everything in me to keep from losing control,” he says, taking another step closer until he’s pinning my back against the counter, his warm honey eyes dark, like staring into a glass of bourbon lit by fire, warm and inviting yet unsettlingly exciting all at once.

“Maybe…I want you to,” I say, standing confidently all while still pouting.

His eyes fall back to my mouth, and I wonder just how far I have to push to get him to make good on his threat. I’ll cut this meeting as short as I need to if it means he’ll follow through on his words.

“Stella,” he growls, and I’m hopeful, right up until the moment the bakery door opens, the chime we installed dinging loudly, announcing the arrival of Dennis. He walks in, proving he’s not only the most annoying realtor ever…he’s also the biggest cockblock.

“Hello, you two. I didn’t know you’d be joining us, Mr. Henderson,” Dennis says, immediately shaking his hand first and just nodding in my direction.

“I figured I could make time for a quick meeting with you,” Miles says, shaking his hand a little firmer than necessary based on the way Dennis’ eyes widen.

But I don’t care how hard he squeezed his hand; it wasn’t hard enough because now I’m even more annoyed with this man. Not only does he suck, but he’s also a douchebag. I’m pissed that it’s been so easy to communicate with Dennis these last couple of days, whereas before he couldn’t be bothered to answer a single text or phone call from me about the bakery. But then he met Miles, and now, he’s suddenly the most communicative person, willing to bend over backward to come meet with us. He’s been so pleasant, saying he has such exciting news, but it’s like he doesn’t realize that we called this meeting, not the other way around.

Obviously, he thinks we just wanted to go over the results of the inspection, signing the last of the paperwork to make the bakery officially mine.

But that’s only part of what we will be discussing. The other part isn’t so pleasant, at least not for him. See, the thing about Miles is he holds a grudge. It’s something I’ve learned over the years, and it’s always to protect those around him.

If he’s seen something happen to someone he cares about, Miles will do whatever he can to right the wrong, usually taking down the perpetrator in the process. I’ve seen it happen dozens of times over the years, mostly on the ice, which is always exciting.

Miles is an incredible defenseman, always has been since that first year he joined the team. But he becomes a different beast when someone pisses him off by going after one of his teammates. It’s like there’s this whole other side to him that only comes out when he’s protecting his people and honestly, it’s hot as fuck.

Which is why this situation is even better because for the first time, that protection, that savage need to defend the ones he cares about…it’s for me. After the other night, watching him with Quinn and assuming that was his way of saying he wasn’t interested in me as anything other than a friend, I didn’t expect him to make the effort to help me deal with Dennis.

But that’s the thing about Miles. He’s always surprising me.

“I’m not sure how quick the meeting will be,” Dennis finally says as he lifts his briefcase up onto the counter, his right-hand flexing as he shakes it out, a little gesture Miles notices based on the smirk playing at his lips. “We need to go over the inspection, and then I want to go over all of the documents with you, Stella, to ensure you understand everything before signing.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I say, stepping closer to the counter to face Dennis, Miles coming up behind me, just near enough that I know he’s got my back, but not front and center, forcing Dennis to finally really acknowledge me. “Miles had his lawyer look it over for me, as well as the inspection, so there will be no need for an unnecessary explanation.”

“But—I, the clause,” he starts, and this time, I let Miles take the lead.

“The clause was bullshit and we both know it,” Miles snaps, his hand moving to my hip, gripping it tightly as he grounds himself to me. “You tried to set this whole thing up so that she wouldn’t own the bakery, but the thing is, we still met the requirements and had everything fixed in the timeframe you allotted, so nothing you say matters anymore.”

“That’s a wild claim, Mr. Henderson. I would never.”

“Don’t start, Dennis,” I snap. “We know your wife’s family owned the property and put it up for sale without her knowing. We also know that you were trying to help her by putting the clause into the contract, in hopes that it wouldn’t be repaired quick enough and that she would remain the legal owner of the property.”

His face falls, all the blood draining as he stares back at us.

Caught you, motherfucker.

“Imagine my shock when we found out this information, that not only were you not trying to help me at all, but you were also actually the one causing all the issues. Now, I’m not sure how you caused the flooding, but that’s beside the point. It’s fixed. You’re an asshole. Now let’s sign the paperwork and move on.”

“Stella, I…I—this looks bad,” Dennis stammers out.

“No shit, Dennis,” Miles snaps. “It is bad, which is why we’re signing the papers and then this is the last time the two of us will ever hear from you.”

He looks shocked, his eyes flicking between Miles and me, but we both just stare back. It’s sentences like that which don’t need further explanation. This is the last time we hopefully have to talk to him. After this, I’ll be finding a new realtor to help me out when I’m ready to purchase something else. Until then, I’m thankful for Miles and his lawyer for helping me figure this one out.

“Uh, Ms. Lockwood, is that how you would like to proceed?” he says, rifling through his briefcase before pulling out a stack of documents.

“Oh? Now my opinion is more important than Mr. Henderson’s?” I say, gesturing behind me toward Miles. “But yes, that is absolutely how we will proceed, and preferably quickly. I’d like to try to actually enjoy a day or two in Nashville, on this trip that was highly unnecessary.”

“As you wish,” Dennis says.

He spends the rest of the meeting quickly going through the documents, only to point out where to sign. The moment the documents were signed, and the keys were passed over, officially, he was out the door, tail tucked, and out of my life.

Which meant the bakery was officially mine.

I did it.

“What are you cheesing about?” Miles says as he comes around the counter. With ease, his hands find my hips, gripping me tightly as he lifts me up onto the counter. With two steps, he’s between my legs, close enough that I could lean in and kiss him if he wanted to. “Stella, stop looking at me like you’re going to eat me and answer my question,” he grumbles, his eyes darkening as he licks his lips, and I only hope his imagination is as depraved as mine in this moment.

“Well…first, I was smiling because I’m excited that this place is officially mine. I’ve dreamed about this moment for years, and it’s surreal that it’s really happening. Thank you for helping. I really couldn’t have done this without you,” I say, looking around at this place. It’s even more beautiful after the work that Miles and Levi did, along with Mr. Henderson. They took a hot mess and made it stunning, and I’m so thankful.

He turned my nightmare into a daydream, and for that, I’ll be forever in his debt.

“It was nothing,” he says, his lips pressing into mine in a soft, chaste kiss that ends quicker than I hoped. “What are you smiling about now?”

“Oh, just imagining what it’ll be like later…your cock in my mouth while I say thank you in a special way just for you. ”

His eyebrows raise, and he steps away from the counter, my body immediately missing his closeness.

“Oh?” he says, his hand moving to his belt, a gesture my eyes immediately lock in on. “How much later are you talking?”

“I mean, whenever is convenient for you,” I say, sliding off the counter as his hand works to unbuckle his belt. With one move, he’s unbuttoning his jeans, sliding the zipper down as I’m moving to my knees before him.

His eyes widen, and my need to please him must be obvious as he pulls his cock out of his briefs. Springing free, his thick dick bobs in front of my face, a bead of precum at the tip. Leaning forward, I lift off my heels, my tongue sliding out to lick his head.

“Fuck, Stell, you’re fucking perfect,” he groans, one hand cupping my face as the other hand moves to grip himself, stroking once, then twice, while watching me. “Right here is definitely not convenient for all the things I want to do to you though…at least not this time. This time I need you back in the bed upstairs.”

Standing up, he lifts me with ease, my legs wrapping around him as he sets me on the counter again. He looks lost in thought, very different from the man who was just looking down at me, but he looks even happier.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks, brushing a piece of my blonde hair back from my face.

“Stop it,” I say, my cheeks heating with embarrassment at the compliment.

“No,” he says, still looking down at me with a smile, a smile that I get lost in for longer than I mean to. A moment in time with no words but with so much meaning that I feel like I’m drowning in emotions.

“Can I take you somewhere?” he asks, his tone less confident, more nervous, and it’s a side I’m not used to seeing in him, a layer I hadn’t discovered before, and I like it.

“Yes,” I say without giving it a second thought.

I’m used to his confident, more domineering side. It’s what I’ve known ever since the first night I met him. The night we met though? That night he was more nervous, less sure of himself, and it was enticing. It was different than what I was used to because most men tried to get you to hook up by being cocky and in your face.

Miles was confident all right, but it was in a less showboat way. I liked it, especially because it made it so much easier to talk to him. We had good conversations, all leading up to our amazing kiss, and that’s the man I’m looking at right now.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my mind already trying to figure out the plan.

“My favorite place in the world,” Miles says, a proud smile on his face now.

Looking at him, I realize that’s all he’s going to give me. “And that is?”

“My lake.”