19. Jones

CHAPTER 19

Jones

Maverick

Want to go fishing Friday?

Me

Raincheck. Mia has the day off so we're going hiking.

Maverick

Who's pussy-whipped now?

Me

Don't start with me dillhole.

Maverick

You told me to tell you if you were falling too fast. Too hard.

This is me telling you.

I awake to an empty bed while it's barely light outside. A chill races through me and goosebumps shoot across my skin. Fucking hell. I catapult in bed and my vision darts around the room. Silence rings in my ears.

Throwing the covers off, I spring from the mattress and yank on a pair of briefs I find on the floor. Last night's briefs. The ones Mia tore off me herself because, as she said, "I wasn't tearing them off fucking fast enough."

Now she's run out on me?

Stomping down the short hall, a soft tapping sound catches my attention coming from the kitchen. My heart races until I turn the corner and see her.

Mia. My Mia. My Peaches.

She's a sight for sore eyes. Dressed in my T-shirt. And based on the sexy bare legs she's showing off; nothing else.

With a spatula in her hand, she flips something on the stove while shimmying her hips. She's got an Airpod in one ear and familiar words tumble out of her mouth in a whisper. Now this is something I could get used to. Watching this seductive woman dance in my kitchen, singing, and dressed in my t-shirt. She's a vision.

And sexy as hell. My dick is already straining against the cotton briefs as I drink her in for just a few more moments. I can't stand it long because I'm a needy bastard who is desperate to have my hands on her. And she's too tempting to stand back and watch. I want to touch.

Shuffling up behind her, I circle my arms around her waist and haul her against me. An adorable shriek escapes her until she's giggling in my arms. I kiss her neck, right over the light bruising of a hickey from the night before. The sight of it makes me practically feral in an instant.

"Shit, Jones, are you ever not ready to go?" she snorts a laugh, giving me a light swat on the shoulder while she pulls away.

I draw her mouth to mine, kissing her good and hard on her mouth. When I pull away, I say, "You kidding? I could fuck you any time, any day. All day if you'd let me." I smack her bare ass and she jolts, releasing an adorable squeal. What I wouldn't give to hear that squeal again while I'm doing things to her body she's only ever dreamed of.

"I think I need some time to recuperate." A sweet smile pulls at her lips, and it lights up her entire face.

Chuckling, I say, "I promised you I'd leave that needy little pussy raw and satisfied, didn't I?" And I can't help myself, I touch what's mine. I reach around her, sliding my fingers down her core and finding her already soaked.

"Yes, and you've done it. Hell, I'm sore and swollen too."

"And so wet. I told you this pussy was needy. She's ready for my cock again."

"What can I say, she's a real clingy bitch, and she's found a dick she likes," she says with a laugh. "As good as it feels having your hand on me, I really am sore and should take a day or two off."

As much as I want to pick her up and set her on this counter, slam into her until she's breathless and her legs are quaking around my waist, I listen to her words. She's Mia. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. I want to take care of her in all the senses of the word.

"I'll take that raincheck." I retract my hand and press a kiss to her temple. "What's for breakfast?"

"French toast."

"Who would've thought? You leave for a few years and come back as Martha Fucking-Stewart."

"Ha," she barks out. "There're no guarantees it will be very good. I only cook for fun. Or if I'm desperate." She flips the toast in the pan.

"Oh, so then nothing's changed," I chuckle.

She shoots me an adorable grin over her shoulder while she attempts to glare at me. It's so cute I might cash in for the raincheck now.

"Just eat and be quiet," she says sort of pouty.

"I can eat and be quiet, I can eat that tempting pussy and be quiet too."

"Jones," she shrieks, elbowing me in the chest. "All you're getting for breakfast today is French toast."

"Fine, I'll take whatever you're serving, Peaches."

She picks up two pieces of bread by the corners and dips them into the batter before dropping them onto the pan. They sizzle and the scent of cinnamon assaults my nose. She distracts me, though, by swaying her hips again.

"What are you listening to?"

"Matt Hansen."

"Who?"

Her brows shoot up. "You've never heard of Matt Hansen?"

"If it ain't 90's country music, I can assure you, I've never heard of it." I give her shoulder a squeeze.

She smiles and shakes her head at me. "Just because your old truck's radio is stuck on that radio station doesn't mean you can't broaden your horizons and listen to something different."

"C'mon, beauty, you know me. Different isn't my forte." I give her a wry grin.

Mia exhales an annoyed breath. "I think you'll actually like his music." She takes the extra earbud from the case and goes on tiptoe so she can slip it into my ear.

I adjust it and give it a listen. She waits intently, chewing on her lower lip. It's cute how she wants me to like it. How she's waiting for me to share my thoughts.

For a few seconds, I get lost in my own head while the music plays in my ear. I think about a world where we could live like this. Me and her. Cooking and eating together. Sharing music and dancing in the kitchen. It's a vivid picture. One I conjured up years ago, but it never came to fruition.

I take her by the hand and swing her around before bringing her back to me again. My arms slide around to her back, and she tethers her hands to my neck. Her fingers twirl in my hair and I lower my lips to hers and give her a drawn-out kiss that has her exhaling a moan. We dance in the kitchen for a long time, letting the French toast on the plate go cold and the ones in the pan on the stove burn.

It's an intimate moment. But the reality is, it's simply that: a moment. I don't get to have this for a lifetime. My gut aches. I don't want to let her go. Not now, not ever.

It's probably a dumb idea. Taking the long trail rather than one of the shorter ones. With bellies full of French toast and getting away later than we should've, we'll be hiking during the hottest time of the day.

But we've come prepared with packs full of water and all the essentials. You don't go on a hike unprepared when you're the daughter of Mr. C. Not only does he own Base Camp Sports, he used to be a forest ranger. He's taught me a lot in the last few years working alongside him while we planned Bikes and Beers. He's taught Mia even more.

It almost feels like old times, hiking with Mia. Stealing kisses every chance I get, coping a feel of her tits inside the sports bra, and grabbing her ass while she's trekking in front of me. She makes hiking fun. I haven't enjoyed it since she left. Hell, I've barely done it without her.

The more time I spend with her, the more I get used to it. But the reality is, our time together is coming to an end.

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when you get back to Connecticut?" I ask and by the way she does a double take, I know I've surprised her.

"Um…probably crawl into my bed and sleep." She snorts a laugh.

It's a reminder of how much I'm going to miss that laugh. So beautiful, so infectious.

"Is your bed that comfortable or am I wearing you out?" I tease, giving her ass a gentle swat.

She flashes me a grin over her shoulder before she turns around and walks backward. "Both," she says.

"Good. As long as I have something to do with it." I rush up to catch her and wrap my arms around her, lifting her off her feet and she squeals. It's a sound I'll never grow tired of. I spin her around and she clings to me.

Her legs wrap around my waist, and she tethers her arms around my neck and before I know it, my cock is straining in my gym shorts. That's all it takes these days. A giggle from her, our fronts pressed together. Heck, probably seeing her dazzling smile would do it.

Mia lowers her face to mine, and I get lost momentarily gazing into her sparkling green eyes. They're the eyes I looked into when I found out I wasn't going to make it professionally as a hockey player, the ones I gazed into when Mom got her first cancer diagnosis, and the same ones I looked into when I found out I was going to be a father.

All those big milestones in my life, she was there. But all the ones to follow, she wasn't. Not when I lost Mom. Not when I quit at the hardware store and began a new career at the bar.

I lift my chin and she lowers her lips to mine. I kiss her with pent-up emotion from all the things we missed. All the kisses we missed. And all the ones we'll miss in the future.

Squeezing a cheek in each hand, I thrust her against me, and she expels a light gasp. I'm tempted to lay her down in this dirt and fuck her. But I can't get out of my head. I can't not think about her leaving. About her life in Connecticut.

I regretfully set her back down on her feet, giving her a light kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

She smiles and takes my hand while we step over the rocky terrain in the middle of the trail. We stay quiet while we pass a few other hikers. But the gnawing questions thrashing in my brain don't alleviate.

"For a moment there I thought I was going to have to talk you out of stripping me down," she murmurs.

"Don't think I didn't want to."

"Don't worry, it was obvious you wanted to," she teases.

I squeeze her hand. "Later. Back at my apartment. I can't wait to tear those leggings off you."

"Or when we get back to the parking lot…in your truck?" she says like a question.

But there's never any question on where or when, it's always gonna be a yes from me.

"You always like this or only with me?" Ah, there, the questions are still finding a way to break free.

Her brows pinch together when she looks at me. "You really want to talk about this?"

I shrug. "Can't help it. I can't help but wonder if the first thing you wanna do when you get back to Connecticut is call a dude."

She glares at me, her lips screwed up in a pout.

"Don't look at me like that," I mutter.

"Then don't fucking ask stupid questions like that."

"Shit. I'm sorry. I'm trying to only think them, but I can't help if one slips out every once in a while."

Resting her hands on my shoulders, she says, "I already told you, after this summer spent with you, I'm exhausted. I'm going to sleep for one hundred years."

"Good. Because by then, you'll be dead and won't be able to fuck anyone. Then I won't lose sleep worrying about what you're doing over there in Connecticut." I grab her waist and tug her in so I can give her a kiss.

When she pulls away, she says in a voice above a whisper, "Stop worrying, Jones. I've already said, if you and I can't make it work, I can't make it work with anyone." She takes me by the hand again and flashes me a dazzling smile. "Just think of me as a nun, I'll be married to the church."

"Aw shit. You don't go to church."

She giggles.

"That's not helping. Now all I'm gonna do is picture you as a sexy nun."