Chapter 31

Adelaide

“Adelaide,” my father says, leaning in to kiss my cheek after Sunday service. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

I smile sweetly, giving him my most innocent look. “What do you mean, Daddy?”

“Daddy? Now I know you’ve planned this.” I watch his eyes cut to Axton, who’s smiling but looking a little green around the gills. “You snuck in here without giving your mother or myself enough time to meet your friend.”

A small laugh slips past my lips. I can’t deny it.

“Boone Hatfield,” my dad says, offering him his hand. “My wife, Virginia.”

“Sir,” Axton says, gripping my father’s large hand before moving to shake my mother’s. “Ma’am.”

My mom holds onto Axton’s hand a few seconds too long as she looks over at me with a tight smile.

“Adelaide didn’t mention a boyfriend,” she prods.

“Just friends,” he mutters when she finally releases his hand.

“Too bad,” she says quietly. “You’re very good looking. He would make beautiful babies,” my mother whispers, though it’s still loud enough for him to hear.

He’s absolutely green by the time we leave church, declining, much to his relief, their offer to lunch. I could see the questioning in my father’s eyes every second we stood there chatting. Well, Axton was being interrogated, but all in all, he took it in stride. My dad wanted to ask me about Gabe. More specifically, why I haven’t accepted his offer to go out, but I didn’t give him the chance. My mother may not have the tact to avoid that conversation in the presence of mixed company, but my dad restrained himself.

“That was brutal,” Axton mutters after opening my door so I can climb into his truck.

“You’re a good sport,” I say when he situates himself behind the wheel.

Staring off into the distance, he cranks the truck, but makes no effort to put it in drive.

“Was that as bad as I think it was?” He tilts his head, rolling it on the headrest until his hazel eyes find mine.

“Worse,” I mutter. His eyes widen, and I smile. “It was fine.”

He huffs, but a small smile plays at the corner of his lips.

“My mother must think you’re the perfect match,” I tell him. “I don’t think she’s ever mentioned babies in front of a guy before. Not that I’ve ever brought men around.”

“One,” he says, holding up his pointer finger, “your mother is a great judge of character. Two, I find it hard to believe I’m the first friend who’s met your parents.”

I hate to dull the shine in his eyes, but he’s pressing for information, thinking I’m going to confirm his assumptions.

“The guy I dated in high school was a member of our church long before we started dating. No introductions were necessary.” His lips flatten. “The guy my parents want me to date is also a member of the church.”

And I’ve dashed all playfulness from his handsome face.

“Were they here today? I don’t know that I could see you and not talk to you.” His eyes dart toward the front of the church as if he can make them materialize. I hate and love the possessiveness in his words.

“Jason, the guy I told you about at the lake, is going to college out of state. His parents were there, but they tend to keep their distance.”

“The guy who tried pressuring you to sleep with him in high school?”

I nod. “Gabe, the guy my parents think is perfect for me, is on some trip with his seminary group.”

“He’s going to be a pastor, just like your dad.” He’s not asking a question, he’s working through the information I just threw at him.

“Yep,” I say, tugging my seatbelt on. “There’s been talk that he’ll take over when my dad decides to retire. In the meantime, after he graduates, he’ll be an associate pastor here.”

“He’s like the perfect guy for you.” I don’t miss the pain in his voice. He’s been governing his emotions for the last two weeks, and now is no different.

“He looks good on paper,” I concede.

Silence fills the cab of the truck for long moments. There’s so much I want to say, so many things I want to confess to him, but he leaves tomorrow, and no matter how much he cares for me, there’s no way this life fits with that life.

I feign my best smile and look at him. “Are you going to take me for sushi like you promised or are we going to sit here being depressed?”

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

Tears burn the backs of my eyes. He only uses the pet names now when he’s hurting. It’s his only way to lash out at me. He’s been treading very lightly since we ran into each other at the party a few weeks back, as if he’s afraid one misstep will send me running in the opposite direction. He’s smart, because it won’t take much. Each morning is a battle at doing what my brain knows is right and succumbing to the need I feel in my heart to spend time with him. My heart has won out every time, but I tell myself it will have time to heal, time to harden a little in the months to come while he’s gone.

I shake my head, eyes squeezing shut. “Please,” I beg. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Why?” Axton asks, stepping closer and touching the tips of my fingers with his. “Because you don’t want to be mean and reject me?”

“Because I want to say yes,” I whisper.

“It will be nothing like the first time,” he assures me.

He’s close enough I can smell the woodsy scent of his cologne. It takes every ounce of power I have not to press against his chest and rub my body all over him like a cat so I can walk away carrying his scent with me.

“I just want to hold you.” His fingers tangle with mine. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“You’re pressuring me.” It’s a low blow, but with how readily I almost say yes, it’s the only thing left in my arsenal.

“I’m convincing you. Stay,” he urges. “I won’t even try to kiss you.”

My heart falls. It’s the number one thing I want from him—now, tomorrow, forever. His lips on mine seem like the best idea, and that’s beyond dangerous.

I lift my head, pulling my gaze from his strong chest to look in his eyes, only I’m mesmerized by his words and the glistening of his lips he had to have just licked.

“I really want to,” I admit.

“You should go with that,” he teases, lips twitching in the most ridiculously sexy way.

My eyes finally make it to his. The golden specks in his hazel eyes, along with every other part of his body, pleads with me to stay. Who am I to argue with that?

“Fine,” I concede. “But no funny business.”

“Can we go to bed early?” His smile is from ear to ear. “The longer I can hold you, the longer I’ll survive on the road.”

I yawn at the mention of bed. If I’m being honest, the idea of him meeting my parents this morning stressed me out more than I wanted to admit.

“Sure,” I agree, hiding a second yawn behind my hand.

I shoot a quick text to Mandy to let her know I won’t be home tonight, though I’m pretty sure she assumed as much when I left for church with him this morning.

“Can you run me home for some clothes?”

“I can give you a t-shirt and boxers, but I have to be up so early in the morning, you’ll have plenty of time to get ready for school.”

I follow him to his room, looking at Carson’s door and realizing just how absent he’s been the last couple weeks. Whatever he’s out doing, I’m grateful for the time alone I’ve had with Axton.

He digs through a dresser drawer. “I don’t have much left. I’ve packed almost all of my clothes for the tour.” His eyes go from the dresser to me and back again. “Maybe sweats would be better.”

I chuckle, but take the folded, black cotton from his hand. “Thank you. I’ll be right out.”

Heading into the bathroom, I make sure the door is closed and the lock secured. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but if he even looked in here while I’m as vulnerable as I am right now, things will end up much like they did the last time I slept in his bed. My body is begging me for it.

“This is the worst idea ever,” I grumble to myself as I wash my face and use Axton’s toothbrush.

“Did you say something?” he asks from the other side of the door.

I stare at myself one last time in the mirror before pulling the door open to face him.

“I was saying I hope you don’t get mad that I used your toothbrush.”

He grins, as if he knows I’m lying. “I’d never get upset with you putting something of mine in your mouth.”

He winks, but he means every word of it, and the thought sends an electrical jolt through me.

“I bet,” I tease.

“Jump in bed,” he says. “I’ll be right out.”

I turn to the bed that looks like it has different sheets on it from when I walked in here. “Okay,” I agree. “But I’m the little spoon.”

His laugh echoes from the other side of the door.

Standing in his bedroom, alone, facing another night that could lead anywhere, I grow apprehensive, questioning if this is the right thing to do. I eye the door, then move my gaze back to the bed, wondering how far I could get before he chases after me. My blood runs cold at the thought that he may not come after me if I leave, and that alone hurts more than it ever should for a man I’m only calling a friend.

Tired of fighting the inevitable, I pull the cool sheets back and slide in between them. The scent of fresh laundry fills my nose, and for a brief second, I’m disappointed the bed no longer smells like him. Before I can get too upset, he climbs in behind me, and the smell I need surrounds me as he places his arm around my side and over my stomach.

“I have to warn you,” he whispers in my ear, “my cock is going to get hard, and there’s no helping that.”

I nod, a tingle I hope I’ve hidden well enough racing down my spine.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but I can’t control it. I can, however, control myself, so just ignore it, because that’s what I plan to do.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize.

“I’m not,” he says. “I get to spend my last night in town with the most amazing woman in my arms. There’s no other place I’d rather be.”

I didn’t think I’d ever be able to fall asleep while he was touching me, but before long, my body relaxes in his embrace and the tendrils of sleep close around me.

“I love you, Adelaide Rose Hatfield.” His whispered confession skates around just on the outside of consciousness, but it doesn’t stop the tears from falling to my pillow.