Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

MILLIE

A fter arriving at Emmett’s house, he quickly showed me to the guest room then pushed through the door across the hall. My room for the night was painted the color of the sky and had dark wood furniture that matched the stain of the floors. A large bed sat on one wall, made up with a white spread and two matching pillows. It was welcoming and had me wishing I could stay more than one night.

Grabbing my bag again, I stepped back into the hallway and tapped on Emmett’s door, but he didn't answer.

“Just wanted to let you know I’m going to take a quick shower,” I whispered, in case he was already asleep.

I heard a grunt from the other side of the door and took it as confirmation then hurried for the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

I hastily undressed and stepped into the steam. Under the spray, I let the warm water pelt my face as the tears started to fall. I wasn’t sure how long they lasted, but the water had cooled significantly by the time they finally stopped.

I was safe, and I had Emmett to thank for that. So like the water I was standing under, I let the heavy emotions roll off of me and circle the drain.

As I stepped out of the shower, I felt lighter and reached for the towel I had taken from the small linen closet. I used it to haphazardly dry my body then twisted it around my hair. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the clothes I packed.

Much to my horror, out came my red lace negligee, matching boy shorts, and a well-loved oversized sweatshirt. Both luxury items were purchased for the honeymoon I never went on, and I hadn’t had a reason to wear them since.

So how had they ended up on top with my frequently worn sweatshirt?

Stupefied, I stood there staring down at my options until I grew cold enough to be forced into making a decision.

This night had already been stressful enough, and I didn’t have the mental bandwidth to dwell on this minor dilemma. It wasn’t like Emmett was going to see me in the lingerie anyway. So I slipped into all three pieces, thankful for the sweatshirt at least—since my ass was barely covered in the set.

Emmett’s door was still shut so I quietly tiptoed down the hallway and softly closed the door behind me.

Feeling dead on my feet, I wasted no time throwing the covers back and climbing into bed. I shimmied out of my sweatshirt and tossed it to the foot of the bed. The sheets were warm and felt heavenly on my chilled skin.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand to set an alarm but was surprised to find new messages.

Emmett:

Thank you for agreeing to stay tonight. I feel better knowing you’re right across the hall.

Don’t hesitate to wake me up if you need anything.

Sleep well, Millie.

I checked their timestamp and saw he sent them in succession a few minutes ago. Which meant he was probably still awake. Before I could second-guess myself I typed out a reply.

Millie:

I feel safe here with you.

Three little dots appeared then disappeared just as quickly. After a while, I set my phone back over on the end table. I was a little disappointed he chose not to answer. If I hadn’t seen the dots, I could have convinced myself he was already asleep. I pulled the covers up as far as I could without covering my head then cradled my pillow.

I’d slept alone for a long time, but tonight this bed felt especially lonely.

A few more tears rolled down my cheeks before I could blink them away. Not wanting to leave my cocoon of comfort, I didn’t bother wiping away their trail.

A single hard knock on my door caused me to yelp.

“Millie?” Emmett called out.

“Yeah?” I answered in question.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied at the same time I remembered all I had on was lingerie.

Oh shit.

Emmett opened the bedroom door. Thankfully, I was already laying down because the sight of him standing there in nothing but gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips would have knocked me flat on my ass.

He was bathed in moonlight and took up a majority of the door frame he was propped against. Toned arms laid across his muscular chest, and his hair was still damp from his own shower.

Was I drooling?

I wiped at my mouth just in case.

“I wanted to check on you one more time before I called it a night,” he stated.

“You could have texted,” I sniffled, then cleared my throat.

“I needed to see you with my own eyes,” he said as he stepped further into the room. “Are you crying?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“It’s been an emotional night,” I replied, bringing the sheet up to wipe my face. “I think I’m allowed to!”

“Of course you are, but I don’t have to like it,” he said as he raked a hand through his damp hair.

“Believe me,” I huffed. “This is not how I expected my night to play out. ”

“And how exactly were you expecting it to end, Millie?” he asked as his eyes narrowed on me.

Provoked by this audacious question, I propped myself up on my elbow and let the sheet fall to expose the top of my negligee.

“A little less weepy,” I snapped. “And a lot more satisfied.”

His gaze felt like a brand as it swept down and honed in on the thin red strap slipping off my shoulder.

“Feisty woman,” he mumbled, pushing off the door frame and moving closer to the bed. “Right now, I need to be wherever you are,” he stated as his palms flattened on the bed. “So if you don’t want me climbing into this bed with you, you need to say so.”

My eyes widened, but I stayed quiet.

He slowly pulled the covers back, giving me ample time to protest—his green gaze never leaving mine. Not even as he slid in beside me and turned onto his side. He brought his muscular arm up underneath the pillow, and I mirrored the movement.

We stayed like this for a while—neither of us looking away or moving an inch.

“Emmett,” I breathed. “What are we doing?”

“Honestly,” he said. “I don’t know anymore.”

This was the epitome of our relationship.

Blazing one moment then glacial the next.

“And tonight is probably not the night to find out,” he added softly, causing me to break our stare.

I had hoped by shoving him into the friend zone, our chemistry would fizzle out. I knew better than to mix friendships and relationships. In my experience, when you lost one you lost both. And I was finally starting to feel at home amongst the Rangers.

Flipping onto my back, I let loose an exaggerated sigh.

He was right, of course.

But I didn’t bother telling him that.

Instead, I flattened my palm and eased it across the bed using my fingertips to navigate the terrain of his sculpted wrist until I was able to intertwine our fingers.

Once our hands were linked, I gave a firm squeeze before letting my cheek fall to the pillow.

My eyes found his, knowing he was still staring at me.

I doubted he had ever stopped .

In fact, I could feel his gaze just as well as his hand I was holding.

He replied by using his thumb to lightly caress the back of my hand. Dipping as low as my pulse point near my wrist but never letting go.

And it felt so nice—as if I was anchored to my very own safe harbor.

His rhythmic touch was dreamy, lulling me into a place of overwhelming contentment.

Utterly relaxed in a matter of moments, I closed my eyes—giving in to exhaustion.