If You Ever Do Believe - AU Steve Harrington x OC
warnings: mentions of death, grief, smut, 18+ (Minors DNI)
word count: 11.5k
WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1282641537-if-you-ever-did-believe-sloan
Masterlist
Sloan braided her long dark hair over her shoulder as she paraded into the bustling antique kitchen of her Aunt’s home in her brown overalls and paisley white shirt.
“Good morning,” she grabbed the coffee mug that her Aunt Frances extended and rushed out the door to get to work.
“Sloan!” Her Aunt Jet called to her. “Is Gracie home?”
“Sound asleep upstairs, got in real late!” She waved her off, scurrying away like a frightened mouse so she didn’t have to face her Aunts about what happened the night before.
Most of all she wanted to avoid another frantically anxious, emotional conversation with her sister. She left her sleeping peacefully in her bed, her face finally settling as her mind found a moment of quiet.
“What do you mean he’s dead?” Sloan’s brow furrowed.
“He’s dead! You hit him too hard!!” Grace ran her slim fingers through cascades of strawberry blonde hair as she paced wildly around the attic.
“He can’t be dead, oh god…” Sloan sank to her knees covering her face with her hands and tried not to cry.
“What do we do?” Her sister asked, coming to join her on the floor.
Sloan pondered her question for a moment. Filtering through the chaos and confusion. It’s not that Grace’s psycho-drug-addicted boyfriend didn’t deserve it. He did. He had stalked her and attacked her when Grace had tried to leave. Even with her sister safe from one danger, a different kind crept up on them in the dark.
They had killed a man.
She had killed a man.
Sloan was only really sure of one thing, she was glad he was dead.
“What we were taught to do,” she answered. “We protect ourselves.”
She picked the dirt out from under her fingernails as she walked down Main Street. Toward the small herbal tea shop, she owned with her best friend Robin. The only person in town who didn’t ridicule her family or openly bully her in the streets.
“Hey, sleepy head!” The bell above the door made Robin turn on her ladder. “What the hell happened to you?” She grimaced.
“Wow thank you, Robin,” Sloan rolled her eyes and set her bag on the counter. “Good morning to you too.”
Robin breathed out a laugh and made her way down her ladder, “I just mean it looks like you haven’t slept at all”
“Just a late night with Gracie, helping her… Study” Sloan swallowed thickly as she pulled her green apron over her head. “I’ll be fine! How was your date last night?”
While her best friend still raised an eyebrow at her, that seemed to deter her for the time being. The two moved about the shop, stocking their shelves as Robin rambled on about her date. They had been friends since the beginning of college and had both been through all the terrible dates and some good ones together, but it had been a long time since Sloan had seen Robin actually happy after being out with someone. And this was a good distraction as she tried not to let her mind wander to the previous night.
“… and I actually kissed her when I dropped her off! Which is weird because you know I get all awkward and never know... but it was…” Robin went on.
“Robs!” Sloan cut her off, with a smile, placing her hands on her friend's shoulders “I’m so happy for you” she giggled.
Robin let out a big breath and smiled too, “thanks..” she chuckled. “I’m seeing her again tomorrow”
"I told you, Rob," Sloan replied, leaning over to smell one of the teas displayed on the gleaming countertop. "You get back what you give out. You deserve some happiness."
"How about you?"
Sloan's head snapped up, almost startled by the question.
"What do you mean?"
Leaning on the counter, Robin met her friend's stare, little drops of sadness in the baby blue of her eyes.
"I mean, how about you? You deserve some happiness. It's been-" she replied, cutting herself off with a shake of her cropped hair and raised hands. "Sorry, I don't mean to bring him up."
The dull ache started to build in her chest, spreading slowly through her limbs like a virus. She swallowed, pushing the sensation down the best she can like she does every time something reminds her of Eddie.
They met in elementary school when she moved to this impossibly small town with Grace. The people here in Hawkins always knew her family was a little strange, that weird things always seemed to occur in their presence. As with all things unusual and different, it made the little girls targets of hurtful names and blistering glares.
One day a classmate moved on from simple words to actions and shoved Sloan down on the playground, calling her a freak and laughing as blood dripped down her scraped knees and palms. Out of nowhere, a scrawny boy from the class next door punched the offender in the nose and the rest was history. Eddie and Sloan became inseparable.
Best friends turned to lovers was so much of a cliche that it almost made her laugh as she got older and started to feel the flutters when Eddie's grin turned her way or his fingers brushed hers. They had five years of maddening, borderline obsessive love before a car accident ripped him from her forever. Last week, Sloan realized she went a whole day without thinking about him and had to lock herself in her room, tears streaming as she muffled her wails with a pillow.
Sloan blew a puff of hair through her lips, bangs fluttering with the motion.
"No, I know, I know. I just...don't think it's gonna happen for me again."
Robin sighed softly, gripping her friend's hand tightly across the counter.
"Well, it's been over two years. It's only a matter of time if you're ready for it that is."
Sloan nodded as the front door of the shop was flung open, almost knocking off an entire display of mugs in the window. A redhead stood in the doorway, panting as her hair floated out of her braids around her face.
"Jesus, Max! Where's the fire?!" Robin exclaimed.
Max held up a finger, working to catch her breath as she hurried over to them.
"There's...a really hot....cop guy at the diner. And he's looking for you, Sloan."
“For me?” Sloan placed the palm of her hand against her chest, trying not to make it obvious that she knew exactly why a cop was looking for her.
Max nodded, “Yeah, he was talking about your sister and that he wants to meet you. Don’t ask me why.”
She nodded and looked at Robin. “Can I leave you alone for a bit?”
“Anything for a hot cop at the diner,” she winked. “Don’t get arrested though. I can’t get you out of prison and then I’ll probably have to run this shop alone, getting old without my best friend while she’s rotting in pris-“
“Robin.” Sloan interrupted, raising her eyebrows.
“Too much, sorry.” Robin pressed her lips together into a thin line.
Sloan pulled the apron back off and laid it on the counter. “If I don’t come back, send the Calvary.” She winked, backing out of the shop, her stomach in her throat and her palms sweatier than they had ever been.
She walked across the street, “witch!” A pack of teenagers yelled as they sped passed on their bikes close enough to run her over.
The sight of Gracie’s dead boyfriend flashed in her mind, his face contorted in pain and pale from death. She closed her eyes, unbothered that she was stopped in the middle of the street to center herself with only a deep breath and the feeling of the sun on her face. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat, stomped onto the sidewalk, and swung the door to the small dinner open.
“Hey, dude!” Argyle stood behind the counter with a cheesy grin on his face. He waved her over and leaned closer so he could whisper, “there’s a rumor your sister's in trouble,” he nodded to his left. A man sat in the booth facing away from them, in a dark brown jacket and a hat pulled down over his head. “It’s coppa’ from outta town, big guns.”
“Thanks,” she padded her hand on the counter and made her way over to the brunette staring out the window. “Sloan Owens,” she said, shoving her hands into the pockets of her overalls.
“Steve Harrington,” the man turned, looking up at her, and paused for a moment before sliding out, removing his black Stetson and extending his hand. “Sheriff Steve Harrington,” he corrected himself.
She hesitated, completely and unwillingly enamored by him. His hair was a mix of dark and light browns, tangled with a few chunks of what looked to be graying pieces that he tried to hide by brushing it back. His eyes shone like amber as he waited for her to politely shake his hand.
Sloan shook herself out of her thoughts with a few blinks, wiping her hands in her pockets before extending her right hand towards his. Electricity shot up her nerves the moment his hand touched hers. The air around her suddenly thick, a feeling of longing coming over her when he drew his hand back. Steve gestured to the bench in front of him with a tentative smile.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” she asked, taking a seat.
His tongue jutted out over his bottom lip before he leaned forward on the table.
“I’m looking for a friend of your sister’s, Ms. Owens and I was wondering if you could give me a hand with that.”
She cleared her throat and folded her arms over her chest, “I can do my best.. which friend are you looking for?” She asked as she slid into the opposite side of the booth.
The sun rays coming through the window caught his amber eyes causing them to glint as she watched him study her. Sloan couldn’t tell if her breath caught because of the previous night's events, or if it was just from the man before her. There was no possible way they could be looking for Jason yet.
“Jason Carver. Was supposed to check in with his parole officer today but no one’s seen him since yesterday morning” The sheriff narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “Just wondering if your sister would know his whereabouts”
“Sheriff Harrington…” she started.
“Steve. Just Steve is fine”
“Steve… I don’t know how much you know about Jason, but have you considered that he just skipped town? With his rap sheet, it’s not far fetched”
“His parole officer said he was getting help. Wanted to come apologize to your sister yesterday” he stated.
“Are you accusing my sister of something, Sheriff?”
Steve put his hands up in defense, and shifted back in his seat, “I’m just trying to find Jason."
Sloan felt her temper flare up, the urge to protect her family strong after years and years of torment by strangers just like this one. The fact that something about Steve made her skin tingle didn't help. She had only felt that one time before.
"Well, we haven't seen him," she replied, shoving her hands into her pockets, nails digging into her palms. "Is that all you needed from me? Or can I return to work now?"
"Where is it that you work?"
Irritation further rose within her, mainly at herself for giving away something so simple. She wondered briefly if those whiskey-colored eyes were making her drunk. She shifted from one foot to another, her hip jutting out as she raised a dark eyebrow.
"A shop. Downtown," Sloan replied coldly. There are not that many shops in Hawkins but she wasn't about to help him narrow it down.
A beat of silence passed before Steve huffed out something similar to a laugh and reached into his pocket. He held a card out between two fingers, the golden emblem of the sheriff's office shining in the light.
"Well, if anything comes up that you think might help find Carver, here's where you can reach me."
Sloan took the card, her fingertips grazing his with the motion. Another surge of tingles, another flicker of irritation deep inside. Turning to leave, Sloan barely had time to form her next thought before long fingers wrapped around her wrist. As she whipped around, she noticed that Steve stood a step closer than before, leaning forward as if to tell her a secret.
"I also maybe wouldn't leave town anytime soon either. Just in case."
She bit her tongue as she yanked her arm from his grasp. With careful steps, hopefully concealing her panic, Sloan shoved the diner's door open. Argyle's weed-induced giggles could be heard over the clang of the bell as she walked out and down the pristine sidewalk. She could feel those eyes on her the entire trip down the block.
Work was going by slowly. Every minute that passed felt like another hour, when she sat in the shop, looking outside at the people walking by. Some of them entered but didn’t buy any of their creations. But who could blame them? The second they saw Sloan, they were ready to judge. Sloan knew that. Her family was used to their disapproving looks and whispers.
That’s also the reason she couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. He was pretty fast to judge her and her family.
She didn’t like that thought, although he was right.
She was to blame.
She did it, after all.
But still, somehow, she would want people to look at her differently for once.
Sloan sent Robin home early, considering there was not much to do today. As the sun lowered in the sky and the clock hit almost 6, Sloan decided to call it a day and closed the shop.
Turning around the keys and facing the door, she heard footsteps appearing behind her.
“Shouldn’t be out here alone this time around, love.”
She recognized the voice from earlier, turning around to face him after putting her keys into her bag.
“Thank you for your concern, Sheriff. But I’m fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.” She wasn’t amazed by the nickname he gave her, though something warmed in her stomach. She decided to ignore that feeling and went past him, slightly brushing his shoulder on the way.
Another set of sparks lit the fire deep in her stomach as their bodies made brief contact, making her head go a little fuzzy. Sloan could have sworn she heard a soft gasp fall from his lips as she moved past him.
Unable to help herself, she glanced over her shoulder catching a glimpse of his golden eyes glowing in the remaining light of the dusk sky. They felt familiar to her even though Sloan had never met Steve before, there was a magnetism to him that almost made her turn around.
"See you tomorrow, Ms. Owens." He called down the sidewalk after her, offering a warm but tentative smile.
Sloan pursed her lips into a thin line, with a quick nod she turned the corner towards home, her footsteps carrying her faster towards the large white home.
She pushed open the heavy door, closing it quickly behind her as if whatever guilt she had been running from wouldn't seep through the cracks and flood around her. Sloan pressed her forehead to the cold wood and glass frames, taking a steadying deep breath.
This wasn't good. None of this was good.
"Sloan?" Her sister's voice filled the foyer, "What happened? Robin called and said you were summoned by some Sheriff?"
Grace stood in a black slip dress, her long hair loose and draped down her back in waves. Her face was crumpled in worry as she gripped the staircase for support.
“Don’t worry about him,” Sloan mused, kicking off her shoes. She popped one of the buttons of her overalls as she walked toward her sister and took her hand in hers. “He’ll be gone in a few days.”
“Robin sounded real worried and she said…” Grace started but fell silent as Sloan shook her head gently.
“Ain’t nothing to panic over,” she said walking away. “He’s buried beneath the rose bush, he smells and looks sweeter there than when he was alive. You stay in this house until he’s gone.”
The heat rose up her neck just thinking about him, the feeling of his skin against hers but she couldn’t be bothered by him right now. She needed a plan, she needed to know what he knew about the case already. “Hey, Gracie?” She called from the doorway of the kitchen, peaking her head around to see her sister still standing frozen on the stairs. “Do you remember that spell for telling the truth?”
“I know that look!” Grace gave her a sly smile, “what are you up too!”
She shimmed with her hips into the kitchen and started pulling things from the cupboards for Sloan, “I just want to invite the Sheriff for a drink tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be able to provide us with some information we don’t have?”
Grace padded into the kitchen and leaned on the counter as she watched Sloan flit about the room.
“Is he cute?” she questioned her sister with a smirk.
Sloan felt her cheeks flush as she turned, herbs in hand. She gnawed the inside of her cheek as she pondered her answer. Her mind drifted off to their interaction early in the day.
His soft caramel-tinted hair and the way it curled at the nape of his neck. The way his eyes reflected the perfect shade of yellow under the right light. Soft freckles adorned his face and neck, like a map you could trace to his lips.
Things she only ever let herself dream of when she was younger and she swore didn’t exist. Because if it didn’t exist, she’d never die of a broken heart.
Again.
She couldn’t possibly let herself feel again, not after what she had been through with Eddie. Not with the curse that loomed over the Owens women.
“Yeah, he’s… nice.” she voiced dismissively.
"Nice enough to ignore that we murdered someone?"
Sloan shot her sister a scathing glare, pulling a large bottle of tequila from under the kitchen island. Nothing had the skill of pulling out your deepest secrets than a pitcher of her aunts' special margaritas.
"Maybe, Grace, you shouldn't be here when he comes by."
Grace stomped her foot, almost childlike, her full bottom lip coming out into a pout.
"Oh come on, I wanna see what this guy looks like that he's got your brain all mushy," she whined. "I can practically hear your thoughts going a mile a minute and none of it makes any sense."
Sloan pulled the final ingredients from the cabinets and sighed, her hands going to her hips.
"Do you think it's going to be strong enough?" she asked, ignoring her sister's pleas. "We usually do this at midnight when they are fresh."
Grace shrugged, waves of red falling over her bare shoulder.
"I don't see why not. It can sit for a bit anyway and you could always just put enough tequila in there that he won't remember anything if it doesn't."
"Gracie," Sloan said calmly despite her increasing frustration, using the best older sister voice she could muster. "Call Robin. Tell her tomorrow you want to hang out, maybe stay the night."
"Fine, fine," Grace said as she held her hands up in defense.
She watched Sloan get to work, measuring and talking to herself as she went. Grace crossed the small kitchen, grabbing her sister’s hand.
"Sloan," she murmured gently. "Just be careful."
This sheriff has thrown her off balance and she's not sure if it's the fear of being caught for murder or the fear of how she feels that causes her stomach to turn. Guilt creeps into her bones and she swallows the lump in her throat.
"I always am," Sloan replied, however it lacked her usual amount of certainty.
The next day, Sloan made her way to work, thinking about her plan. As she arrived at the shop, Robin was already working.
“Morning sleepyhead,”
“Morning,” Sloan responded absently, being lost in her thoughts about what could happen today. The last time she was using some spell, it didn’t end well.
“The Sheriff was here, looking for you,”
Sloan’s head snapped up, looking at her. “Why?”
Robin shrugged, “I don’t know. But he’s cute…like, cute for you, you know? Not really the type I would fancy but for you? He’s a ten, baby…a solid ten. I mean the big doe eyes and the hair? Sloan, if you don’t go and a-“
“Rob, I love you, but you have to shut up.”
"What!" Robin laughed, "I'm just saying that maaaybe, when he's done doing whatever official business he has here, you two can... you know..." She grinned, gesturing obscenities with her hands as her nose scrunched.
Sloan's eyes slid closed, taking a deep breath through her nose, "Please, never do that again."
Her eyes flew open at the sound of Robin's gasp. They shot towards her, thinking something was wrong. "Maybe! you two will fall in love!" Robin clapped her hands together, eyes wide with excitement.
"Robin!" Sloan finally yelled, snapping her friend's attention back to the moment. "Please, for the love of everything spiritual, stop."
Robin's face fell for a moment before a smile crept back over her features, "Okay, fine. I'll stop, but only because Mr. Good Hair is about to walk in."
Sloan winced slightly, as the bell above the door rang.
"Hi, again Sheriff!" Robin waved before flashing a wink at Sloan and disappearing into the backroom.
She could already smell his cologne, the smell of oak and vanilla surrounded her with a hint of something smokey to compliment him. Sloan turned, finding him standing behind her with his hands shoved into the pockets of his deep blue jeans.
"Good Morning, Ms. Owens." He greeted, the amber in his eyes catching in the morning light through the store window, "Sleep well?" Steve asked with a warm smile.
“The best one can,” she smiled at him.
“Did you happen to think of anything that might help me locate Jason?” He asked, walking around the shop aimlessly in his dark blue dress shirt and coat.
“Unfortunately, no. However,” Sloan followed his eyes and the careful way they observed everything around him. Drifting lower, she became transfixed on two freckles clustered toward the top of his throat, obsessed with the way they shifted when he swallowed, deep in thought. “I did want to extend a peace offering,” she waited as that intoxicating gaze turned up at her.
“A peace offering?” Steve raised an eyebrow as he came to a standstill. “Don’t you only offer those when you’ve done something wrong?”
“Well you can see it that way, I’m just trying to be polite after being so gruff with you yesterday,” she tucked her dark hair behind her ear and watched as he tried to decide whether or not she was being malicious.
“Ms. Owens,” he stepped forward and she welcomed him as he invaded her space only because she was granted another smell of his strong cologne. “Did you or your sister kill Jason Carver?”
She felt her stomach roll over with nausea, staring up into the endless ocean of amber that waited on a mistake, a mistake that would put her and her sister in jail. She laughed, her lips curling into a bright smile, “Oh yeah, a couple of times.”
Steve’s mouth twitched, lopsided, he showed her a few of his beautiful teeth as a dimple formed on his cheek.
She inhaled through her nose to steady the fire that burned in her belly from the sight, “is that a smile?”
“No,” his lips pressed into a firm line, all traces of the sunshine gone. “Was that a lie?”
“Yes,” Sloan winked, patting him on the chest. The fireworks tingled at the tips of her fingers, “Now you come by the house around eight and I’ll make you some dinner. Don’t be late.”
Six o’clock rolled by in the blink of an eye, the sound of the bell announcing Grace’s arrival at the store to meet up with Robin. She looped her arm around their friend’s and looked back at Sloan, eyes wide mouthing be careful. Sloan waved her off and grabbed her keys as she turned off the store lights to lock up and walk back home.
With dinner in the oven, she took the pitcher out of the fridge and began setting up their places at the table. A rhythmic knock on the door snapped her out of her concentrated state as she blew on some candles to light them up, reminiscent of when she learned to do so as a child and placed them on the table. She walked towards the door and took a deep breath before turning the knob.
The view almost knocked her back as she was greeted by Steve leaning up against the door frame, a soft smile on his face and the moonlight accentuating his jawline.
“Evening, Sheriff.” She smiled.
“Ms. Owens,” he nodded and brought his hand front, holding a small bouquet of lush lavender sprigs accompanied by a few white daisies. “thought I’d bring a little peace offering myself.”
Sloan felt a little breathless as she inhaled the mix of sweet and smoky, the gesture surprising her.
"You know, my aunts say that lavender can bring you luck," she mumbled into the bundle, before raising her face to his. "Are you nervous, Steve?"
She stepped back to let Steve through and he entered with a curious expression, eyebrows slightly raised as he looked around.
"Should I be?"
Sloan snorted as she walked to the kitchen, the Sheriff close behind. His boots made a pleasant clicking sound on the old hardwood and the space seemed to warm up with him nearby. It was almost like he belonged. She shook off the feeling as she grabbed a vase from the window.
"You are very good at deflecting my questions with more questions," Sloan said with a sly smile, filling the glass and placing the bouquet gently in the tap water.
She turned to meet Steve's gaze as he stopped, hands on his hips as the moonlight shining through the windows cast silvery shadows on his handsome features. The space between them seemed too close but also too wide for her liking. That feeling sent a shiver of fear through her.
"I'll give you a real answer when you give me one back," he replied, rubbing his chin almost in thought.
Sloan bit her lip, trying to hide the grin spreading across her warm cheeks, "Dinner should be done soon." She deflected a bit, moving around him to pull the oven door down, checking on the lasagna. Sloan took in a deep breath of the smell, trying anything to cover the scent that made her dizzy whenever he was around.
She stood back up, closing the door with her. Sloan gasped softly realizing he had moved around the counter towards her, standing just a few inches from her. His golden eyes scanned her features before a smile fell across his lips. "Whatever it is," his eyes flicked to the oven, "Smells great."
Her fingers fumbled together as she tried taking a step back, but just like a magnet, he followed. She wasn't scared of him, well... she wasn't scared of him physically but the feelings his presence gave her terrified her.
"Lasagna," she finally managed through a breath, "old, family recipe."
Steve grinned, as they took another step, Sloan bumping into the counter. "Ms. Owens, I think that's the most honest answer you've given me."
“Well that’s not true,” she leaned against the counter, letting it dig into her back to give her an ounce of her reality back.
His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips and slowly back again. “Is that so?” Steve laughed.
“Well I told you my name,” she smiled, proud of herself she straightened up.
“I already knew your name,” he hummed, following her as she rounded the island. “So we’re back to square one.”
“What do you want to know, Sherriff?” She poured a drink into his cup, topping it with the cutest paper umbrella before she leaned in and slid the cup to him with two fingers.
“Steve,” he corrected her. “I just want to know what your motives are here. Inviting me into your home for dinner, the man investigating your sister.”
He took a sip of the drink, his lips parting around the glass. Sloan leaned in closer, tugged by the invisible string that he had undoubtedly tied around her broken heart. “I have nothing to hide,” she whispered.
“Another lie,” he gave her a weak smile, his hand slowly reaching out. His fingers grazed the bare skin of her neck sending goosebumps trailing down her arms as he hooked the thin chain that hung around her neck. Popping it free of her shirt and overalls, the gold band that Eddie had given her swung lazily.
“We kill our husbands, too,” she tried to joke, forcing a sad smile on her face and shoving the ring back between her breasts.
Steve’s face fell as he placed his drink down on the counter and leaned further toward her. He rested his hand atop hers tentatively, his thumb stroking her skin softly. Big doe eyes stared back at hers as she tried her best to keep the tears that began to gather in her eyes at bay.
“I’m sorry, Sloan.”
“Don’t be,” she sniffled, “comes with the name.” She slid her hand from under his and turned to busy herself grabbing the lasagna out of the oven.
“That accident wasn’t your fault.”
Sloan whipped her head to the side, lips slightly parted in question as she met his gaze once more.
“I’m a cop Sloan, I know everything about you two already.” he stated matter of factly, “What happened wasn’t your fault.”
She scoffed. Of course, it was her fault, she knew better than to fall in love and put him in danger.
“Well, Steve, the curse surrounding Owens women would say otherwise.”
Steve sucked in a deep breath, carefully placed his hand on her shoulder, gently rubbing his thumb against her soft skin, “I’m sorry... I - I shouldn’t have pried” He pressed his lips into a thin line, giving her shoulder a small squeeze before allowing his hand to drop, trailing his fingers lightly down her arm.
Sloan felt like her skin was on fire, ignoring the butterflies that erupted in her stomach as his hand skated down her arm, dropping to his side. She knew this was how cops operated. Use personal details to get in your head and find out what you are thinking. When Eddie had his accident it was the same thing. Despite what was clearly an accident, Sloan had to undergo questioning “just in case”.
Clearing her throat, she moved to the other side of the kitchen island away from Steve, and plastered on her sweetest smile, “What do you think of the drink?” She asked, pressing hers to her lips and taking a sip. “Another family recipe… My aunt's famous margaritas”
“It’s good…” He nodded once and leaned onto the counter to study Sloan and close the gap as she stood in front of him. “You're giving me some good family secrets tonight, I’m impressed” A smirk tugged at his plump lips. “It usually takes 3 or 4 dates to get this far”
“As I said, it’s a peace offering” She smiled against her glass again. “So any luck with your case? Or is it just my family you’re investigating?”
“Come on, Sloan, you know I can’t tell you that” He spoke quietly, keeping his golden eyes locked with hers. “Am I allowed to ask you questions? Or am I being investigated now?”
“Well, fair is fair Sheriff…”
“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Steve?” He reached forward and brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
"We'll see how the night goes," Sloan murmured, intently studying the constellations and pathways of his face.
She caught the small flicker of his eyes on her mouth and cleared her throat, breaking the tension that threatened to choke her.
"Here, let's eat before it gets cold and the margaritas melt," she said quickly, moving around him to reach for plates.
Steve's head dropped a little as Sloan moved around the kitchen, going through all the motions of gathering their glasses and utensils to place them at the worn oak table. She found that her breath grew shorter the longer he watched her silently from the spot by the stove. It felt like her limbs were moving in slow motion.
Sloan had just placed the pitcher of her lime-flavored concoction on the table when she felt Steve's warm presence pass by. He laid the glass pan in the center of the settings before reaching over to pull out the chair to her left.
"Thank you," Sloan said softly before taking her seat.
As Steve's hand left the back of her chair, his fingers once more brushed against her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed until the scraping of his chair forced them open.
"This looks great," Steve praised lowly as she began cutting into the meal.
Her dark eyes flickered to his and just as she had expected he was watching her, studying her again as if any tiny movement she made, he was committing to memory. Sloan smiled briefly before focusing on the pasta.
"Thank you," she murmured.
She slid the spatula under the corner piece, carefully picking it up as he swiftly held out his plate for her. "Can I ask you a question?" she asked, as he began helping her with her slice.
"You just did." Steve grinned. Sloan shot him a pointed look, unable to stop the blush creeping up on her cheeks at his playful banter as it spilled from his mouth.
"Why drive cross country to find someone like Jason?" The question had lingered on her mind for days. He wasn't a good guy, nor did he have any family other than the creeps Grace described as his friends.
Steve sat back in the chair, a soft creak filled the silence as he pondered her question. Sloan's eyes fell to his lips, watching as his tongue ran across the bottom one and darted back into his mouth. "Everyone deserves justice, Sloan... and closure." He picked up his fork, stabbing it gently into the pasta, "It's my job to make sure that happens."
"What if closure doesn't exist?" She asked.
Steve furrowed his brow for a moment, "What do you mean?"
"Well, I think there's always going to be someone hurting. Whether it's grief or pain or just missing the person who is gone, closure doesn't exist for people with broken hearts." She hadn't noticed that her fingers were tapping against the band Eddie had given her, through her clothes until Steve leaned forward once more, his closeness making her acutely aware that she had rambled for a moment.
Steve wrapped his fingers around hers to quell the tick that had started to calm her nerves. “I’m not here to dig up things that make you sad Sloan, I just need answers so I can go home.”
Home. The word stung and it was her turn to move away. Letting herself get wrapped up in his pretty hazel eyes and soft, brown hair. She was an idiot. She was being played.
“Let’s not be sad then?” She plastered on a soft smile and took another bite of her food. She savored the tomato sauce, the basil, and the cheese as she watched him sip on his drink and happily devour his food. She watched as a splash of tomato sauce coated the corner of his mouth, a giggle left her mouth causing him to look up at her through his thick lashes.
“Here,” she rubbed the sauce away, pressing the pad of her thumb to his lips, wiping it away gently before putting her thumb into her mouth to clean it. Steve watched her, a curious lust filling his eyes as she bit down at her lip. “It must be good,” she laughed, as she took another bite.
“It’s this,” he pointed to the margarita, “this is magic.”
A bright smile spread across his lips, one she hadn’t been blessed enough to see until now and it melted every ounce of willpower left in her body. She took in the soft shape of his bright amber eyes, and the slope of his nose and counted each of his freckles. Magic.
“Fuck,” she laughed, tilting her head back and letting her hair drape down the chair as she made her stomach sore. “Magic.”
“You’re gonna have to elaborate,” Steve laughed with her, a confused awkward laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re going to think I’m insane,” she shook her head.
“I could never,” he hummed in a serious tone.
“When Gracie and I were young, there was this spell… We cast it because we thought it was impossible…” she whispered, her brows kissing together in confusion.
“What was?” A glimmer of curiosity shone in his eyes as he waited for her to continue.
“It was a true love spell.” she huffed out a laugh, “But everything I wrote regarding that true love was just a combination of things that should be impossible. Too perfect to actually exist in one person.”
“Why would you want that?”
Sloan smiled softly at Steve’s question. Her thoughts went into overdrive and her heart hammered against her chest as she added up everything on that list she had seen in him. Only missing one very specific trait that he definitely couldn’t have. It was… ridiculous. Right? She had already had her heartbreak, the curse had already touched her. The universe couldn’t possibly have answered with him now.
Her gaze fell to her glass, focusing on the droplets that slid down and formed a ring on the tablecloth, trying to steady herself before she answered.
“If it doesn’t exist, you can’t die of a broken heart.”
“That’s a good reason..” He answered, nodding slowly and chewing on the inside of his cheek as he kept his eyes on her features. “Although… I do believe that it’s better to feel love and experience hurt than feel nothing at all”
Sloan felt the prick of a tear, fighting its way to the edge of her dark eyes. She used to believe that too. Until the curse proved her wrong. Now the universe was taunting her with the man before her because ripping her one love away wasn’t enough. The spell she and Grace had done was little and they were kids, what they asked for was unrealistic. It was at this moment that Sloan was grateful for the one tiny detail she had put in that was impossible for Steve to fulfill.
“Hey..” Steve spoke again, reaching over and placing his hand lightly on hers. “Where’d you go?”
She peeled her eyes away from her glass, landing them on their touching hands and racking them back up to meet Steve’s impossibly warm eyes. “Sorry, we just uh… brought up the childhood memories” She breathed a laugh. “I hadn’t thought about that spell in a long time..”
“Sloan, we don’t have to…”
“No, it’s okay… it’s just, you might think I’m insane by the end of this dinner” She giggled, taking another sip of her drink, trying her best to ignore the sensation of Steve’s hand still in hers, his thumb gently rubbing her skin and igniting every nerve.
Steve shook his head, "I don't scare that easily." Sloan glanced down at him as he dipped his head to catch her eyes with his own, a warm smile spread across his features, "you'd have to tell me something like... Jason's buried under the roses, for me to think that." He chuckled.
Sloan took another generous sip as she returned the chuckle only hers was loaded with fear and tension. She set her glass on the table, shifting in her seat. "That's uh.. very specific."
"It's a very pretty rose bush." He offered, gently dropping his hand at hers.
A small pout formed across her lips at the lack of contact and heat his skin had to offer her. Like a warm cup of tea in the dead of winter, his touch felt comforting to her. She did the only thing her mind was screaming at her not to do-- Sloan leaned towards him, close enough that when she reached for him, her fingers fell to the collar of his shirt.
Dark brown eyes met Steve's, searching them as he watched her. Her hand relaxed, even more, dragging down the hem until it reached the first button.
She froze, her eyes dropping to his chest, getting a small glimpse at the smattering of chest hair that popped through the top. Sloan moved her eyes up his neck and to amber hues. The little voice in the back of her mind was silently screaming at her to pull away, that these feelings were dangerous. But her heart sang louder, willing her fingers to tug just a tad harder, freeing the button from its clasp.
A small gasp left her lips as it popped open, revealing more of the chestnut hair that adorned his pecks. By now they were both leaning into each other and she could feel the heat of his breath against her burning cheeks.
"A star, just above--" Sloan ran her fingers along the inside of his shirt, trailing along his collarbone till she reached the place just above his heart.
“Why do you look disappointed?” Steve asked.
“Because you aren’t supposed to exist,” she whispered as her finger traced the small white lines of a lopsided star.
She could feel all the agony of losing Eddie come flooding back. Pulling her hand away quickly as if that would make the heartbreak stop. She had loved him too hard and held him too tight. And it killed him. And in some cruel prank that the universe chose to play, the man from her spell was sitting in her kitchen. Tipsy off midnight margaritas and looking at her like she was a dream that he had chased hopelessly for his entire life only to have her within arms reach unable to keep her.
“Because if I don’t exist…” he nodded in understanding, and a piece of his soft brown hair fell against his forehead as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his lip. “What else was on the list?” He asked unbothered by the weirdness that she had just presented him with.
She stared at him confused, her brown eyes widening like a deer in headlights. She shook free of the overwhelming feelings and dropped her gaze to stare at her interlocked fingers. Steve reached forward, pressing his curled finger under her chin, and lifted her head.
“I want to know,” he hummed, the corner of his lip curling into a soft genuine smile. He pulled his hand away, took another drink, and leaned back against his chair, waiting for her to find her courage.
“Silly things, I was just a little girl…” she laughed.
He will hear my call a mile away.
She bit her lip, thinking back to the spell, and realized they weren’t just silly things, they were stupid and impossible.
He will be marvellously kind.
He can flip anything in the air and always catch it.
“He can read my mind,” she whispered with a smile. “Silly. Kid. Things.”
“I’m starting to think lying to me is a Sloan Owens family secret too,” he laughed. “You were working in there,” he tapped her temple. “But you still didn’t tell me the truth.”
Sloan’s eyes shifted between his eyes and his lips following the perfect slope of his nose. Her mind suddenly felt foggy. She couldn’t tell if it was the regained closeness or the alcohol in her system, but her resolve was wavering.
“I told you, Steve. I was young and naive and it doesn’t matter.”
He traced his fingers slowly down her hairline before cupping her cheek. His thumb brushed her cheek softly as he closed the distance further, the tips of their noses touching.
They shared a breath, his lips just barely grazing hers as he whispered, “It matters to me, Sloan.”
A soft whine escaped her lips, as thoughts of the spell flashed in her mind. The sound of her and Gracie giggling as they recited the words, the smell of oregano and nettles mixed with the florals of periwinkles. The flare of the candles as they lit up their small garden shed. It couldn’t have worked. This was some cruel trick. But as those flashes were replaced with images of Steve, butterflies erupted in her stomach.
“Live your life sweetheart…” A soft voice whispered in her ear. “Be happy… For me”
She recognized the voice and it pricked tears at the corner of her eyes. With one deep breath, she pressed her lips to Steve's gently. Feeling his hand move to the back of her neck, she placed her own hands on his chest, grasping the sides of his shirt.
Steve moved back and placed his forehead against hers, brushing the tips of their noses together. “Tell me the spell…” He spoke again.
She shook her head and moved back to look at him, swiping her finger across his forehead to tuck the piece of golden hair that fell against it. “He will be kind… He can flip anything in their air and catch it…” She laughed, as Steve trailed his fingertips up and down her arm.
Sloan took another deep breath and closed her eyes, “Why did you stay in town? Most sheriffs would have left and kept the investigation going, but you stayed…”
“I couldn’t leave…” He whispered. “Someone needed me here, I could feel it… and that feeling brought me to you”
A shaky breath caught in her throat as she opened her eyes and looked at Steve, “This wasn’t supposed to happen…”
Lightning crashed outside the window followed closely by the house-shaking sound of thunder that startled her away from his touch. She stood too quickly and her chair overturned onto the kitchen floor. She pressed flat against the antique china cabinet and put her hand over her heart to steady the rapid thump of it within her chest. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the rain and there he stood in her memories. Eddie, his bright smile stared back at her through the downpour and darkness. He always loved the rain, and the sound, it’s nature's homebrewed rock and roll baby, just listen.
Steve sighed, standing and picking up her chair. “You’re right,” he nodded, pushing the chair in and walking around the table around her. “I shouldn’t be here, this goes against every rule I have. I’m sorry Sloan,” he said as he straightened himself out. “Thank you for dinner.”
She listened as his boots clicked against the hardwood floor, strangely in time with the beat of her heart as she steadied herself still. Her legs felt weak, her breaths too short. Every ounce of her willpower had been stripped away leaving her raw and exposed, and now… alone.
The door closed behind him, clicking shut and the rain fell harder outside. Pounding against the window panes the room felt so small all of a sudden. “Eddie, baby,” she whispered. “I’m listening, but…” she couldn’t, she couldn’t just let go.
Her heart was barely holding on, stitched together with year-old bandaids and twine she had found in the cupboard. She didn’t know how to love someone with that level of disrepair. “I had my love, the kind that even time laid down and was still for. I had you.”
Another crash of lightning and the power in the house shorted out. “Shit Eddie,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “You don’t get to boss me around! You left me!” She kicked the chair in front of her angrily, just trying to funnel the explosive emotions. “You died and I have to live with that but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy doing it! I’m alone! Isn’t that punishment enough? I’m sorry!” She screamed over and over as the tears poured down her face.
Thunder boomed through the house, louder this time, and rattled the walls. A frame fell from the wall in the hallway, the sound of shattered glass echoing into the kitchen. She grabbed a candle, set it on the table in the corridor, and knelt to pick up the photo that fell.
It was of her, Eddie, and Grace. Arms interlocked and big cheesy smiles on their young faces.
Not alone.
She heard him loud and clear.
She ran to the door as fast as her feet would take her, swinging it open and running out onto the porch. The rain came down in sheets, soaking her as she climbed down the steps to see him walking back up to the house. They both stopped feet from each other and just stared, unsure about what to say or do.
“You know what?” Steve shook his head not taking his eyes off of her, rain dripping down his face. The droplets trickled over the soft curve of his throat as he swallowed all his nerves.
“What?” She asked, so scared of the answer that her voice cracked in response.
“I wished for you too,” he said.
A sob slipped from Sloan’s lips as he closed the gap left between them. Her face was eclipsed by his hands as he took her lips in his. Their lips slotted together perfectly as if they had been made expressly for each other, tongues moving together in perfect harmony. She grasped his shirt in her hands, pulling him closer out of fear that he’d be taken from her grasp.
Steve pulled back from the kiss, nose nudging softly against hers as they caught their breaths.
“I don’t want to lose you, Steve.” she breathed against his lips, “I can’t do it again.”
She watched his rain-kissed eyelashes flutter closed before he pulled further back, thumbs tracing soothing circles on her cheeks as he opened his eyes and met her gaze.
“Curses only have power when you believe them, Sloan, and I don’t.”
Sloan let out a deep breath that she wasn’t aware she was holding and pressed her lips to his once more. A small clap of thunder made her heart leap into her throat as her arms snaked around Steve’s neck, pulling him closer. His hands trailed down her sides, hooking into her thighs as he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He carried her back into the old white house, kicking the door shut behind them. He set her feet back down on the ground as they both pulled back for air, Steve brushed his hands over her cheeks catching the falling raindrops.
“Steve..” She breathed again, “How do we know these feelings aren’t just because of the spell? How do I know you’re here because you actually want to be?”
His arms made their way back around her waist, as he walked her slowly back towards the stairs. “Believe me, I am here because I want to be..”
“But Jason…”
“Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out” He stated, keeping his eyes locked with hers. “But right now, all I care about is you”
Steve swiftly scooped his arm under her legs and carried her bridal style up the long white stairs. Sloan pressed soft kisses down his jawline and counted the freckles that trailed along with her. She heard a small moan escape his lips as she licked and pressed her lips to a particularly sensitive spot at the freckle that landed on the base of his jaw.
At the top of the stairs, he set her down, attaching his mouth to hers once more and entangling their tongues. She hooked her fingers into his belt loops and dragged him back into her bedroom, allowing him once more to kick the door shut with his boot.
“Sloan I don’t…” He breathed, pressing his forehead into hers. “Is this okay? I don’t… I don’t want you to think this is all I want from you…” He whispered, peppering her face with kisses, and ghosting his lips along her jawline.
“It’s good Steve… I want this… I want you” She whimpered, moving her fingers into the buttons of his shirt and pulling them free.
She pushed the shoulders of his shirt from his arms and trailed her hands over his back. Tugging on him, begging him to go closer to her as she backed toward her bed. The only light in the room cast from the break in the heavy curtains. Letting in just enough moonlight for her to take note of each and every freckle. Counting them with her lips as she kissed across his face and down his neck.
He popped the latch on her overalls letting one of the straps fall loose. Followed shortly by the other as he tilted his head back. A low moan left his swollen lips as she pressed a hungry kiss to the scar above his heart.
His fingers pushed at her clothes, giving the overalls enough give to fall from her body in a puddle before pulling her soaked shirt up and over her hair. She giggled as he gripped her thighs, bringing her up and around his waist again as she kicked free from the pants. He laid her back against the bed. Her hair falling in messy waves around her sheets and he sighed just admiring her.
“Somehow the moon makes your eyes even more amber,” she reached up and rubbed her thumb against his cheek, the moon bathing his skin in cool tones.
His fingers danced up her arm to her wrist, placing his hand atop hers he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm.
“You look absolutely ethereal, Sloan.” his voice low as he continued to lay kisses at her hand and wrist before pressing her hand to his scar before he brought his hands down to the waistband of his jeans.
“I could look at you forever.”
She bit the corner of her lip as she watched him kick his boots off and work the zipper of his jeans. She studied the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. The way his damp chest glinted under the sparse light with each breath. Her heart beat almost in unison with the way his did against the heel of her palm as she traced the raised star that adorned his chest.
Steve sent her a soft smile as he finally rid himself of his jeans and took her hand in his once again.
He locked their fingers together and kissed a trail up her forearm stopping just at the height of her navel. Sloan’s breaths quickened and her eyes fluttered closed as wet kisses up her chest led his lips back to hers. Placing a chaste kiss on her lips as he hovered above her supporting himself on his free arm.
“Are you okay, angel?” he asked against her lips.
Sloan nodded as she reached up her free hand, and traced his jawline with the tips of her fingers. She sucked in a shaky breath and smiled up at him, “Yeah I’m okay..” She whispered, ghosting her lips on his.
Dipping his head, Steve pressed his lips to her neck, trailing small kisses and nips down over her throat and chest, pulling a whine from her lips. He moved down her body, letting go of her hand to run his fingers gently over her skin.
He looked up at her through his thick lashes, smiling sweetly at her, “If you need to stop, just tell me… We only go as far as you want, okay?”
She nodded again and bit her bottom lip. “I’m okay Steve, keep going… please” She whispered.
His tongue darted out over his bottom lip, as he nodded once in response and went back to work. He continued pressing his lips down her body, placing soft kisses on both of her hip bones before sitting back and hooking his fingers into the top of her panties.
“Can I take these off you, sweetheart?”
“Yes…” She breathed, moving her own hand up her body, grazing it over her breasts as she watched him.
Steve gently tugged, pulling her panties down her legs and tossing them onto the floor. He grasped her calf softly and began moving up her leg with soft kisses and nips, teasing the inside of her thighs.
“Mmm Steve…” Sloan whined, reaching down and combing her hand into his hair. She wiggled her hips, and let out a sigh. “You're being a tease…”
A deep chuckle left his chest as he nudged his nose against her throbbing clit. He ran his finger through her wet folds and flicked his tongue out against her bud. “I’ve got you, angel…” He murmured, as he heard her gasp.
Sloan’s hand drifted to his hair, her fingers intertwining softly with his gold-tinged locks. He peered up at her as he circled his tongue around her clit and collected her slick with his fingers. His other hand slid up the sheets, finding hers and locking their fingers together. A silent reminder that he’d only go as far as she allowed him.
“Pl-“. Her plea was interrupted by a whine as he slipped a finger inside her and took her nub between his lips. He alternated between soft sucks and licks as his finger reached the spot that made her keen.
Her moans and pants filled the room, toes curling as her hips lifted to Steve’s face. She dragged her nails lightly across his scalp eliciting a moan from him that sent vibrations shooting up her core.
“Steve I- Oh God. Please don’t stop.” She panted.
Steve smirked into her, taking her clit between his lips and sucking as he added another finger and curled them inside of her, relishing in all her sounds. She squeezed his hand tightly, arching her back as she whined, a deep fire in her belly growing.
“Come on baby… Let go for me” He whispered against her skin, before diving back in with his tongue.
Sloan groaned, and whimpered, moving her hips against Steve’s face as she felt her climax wash over her like a tidal wave, whiting out her vision. It had been so long since someone had made her feel this good, and she felt a small twinge in her heart but she knew it was okay. It was time to live again.
Reaching down, she grabbed his face and brought him up to her, attaching their lips again. She felt him grind his hard cock into her, pulling a moan from deep in her chest as he hit her oversensitive bud.
He pulled back to catch his breath and stared down at her with a lopsided smile. It made her feel like the only girl in the world, the way his syrup-colored eyes traced her features.
Sloan cupped his face in her hands, and brushed her thumb along his cheekbone, returning the smile.
“Pretty boy…” She moaned, bucking her hips into him. “Fuck me… Please”
A whine slipped from Steve’s lips before he crashed them back onto hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth. He reached down with a free hand and clumsily freed himself from his boxers, shoving them down and off the bed.
He aligned himself with her entrance and slowly pushed himself in, giving her time to adjust to him as he peppered her face with soft kisses.
“Are you okay?” He whispered.
Sloan nodded, and nudged her cheek into his lips, “I’m okay Steve, you can move”
Steve smiled again, leaning down to press his lips against her own as he began rolling his hips gently against her. Taking his time to pull almost fully out of her and then push himself as deep as he could go. Both of them swallowed each other's moans as flames licked the inside of her belly.
Everything felt tingly, her fingers, toes and brain were fuzzy. She was pretty sure it was the tequila, but the more his lips roamed her body and he rolled his hips against her own, she became less convinced it was the alcohol.
His hand found her own again, intertwining their fingers and pressing her hand into the mattress as his body eclipsed hers. While her opposite hand roamed his back, feeling his muscles tense and pull under her touch before landing on his backside and gently squeezing.
Steve let out a groan as his lips ghosted along her jawline. Sloan tilted her head to give him better access to her neck, the feeling of dull teeth grazing her skin, sending goosebumps down her spine.
"You--" He nipped gently at her collar bone, "Are--" Steve's lips ghosted down her chest to the swell of her breasts, his hot breath fanning against her skin as he sucked gently, "Beautiful," he pulled away once again, each word punctuated with the sweetest of nibbles.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she moaned his name, feeling her orgasm swell within her like a cup getting ready to overflow. He was the faucet and right now, the only thing he was filling her with was joy and warmth. Something she's missed since Eddie. Steve was re-igniting something within her that she hadn't felt in over two years and Sloan was feeling ready to let him.
"Steve," She whined softly clenching around him as his hips began to snap at a quicker pace.
Sloan nudged him to roll over, needing control before she came undone. His strong hand snaked around her back lifting her close to him as he shifted positions. Her hair fell down over her face as he pulled her tightly into his lap. His back rested against the wall, his hands moving to her hips as she corrected herself. She sank fully onto him, gasping as he filled her. She fell forward until their foreheads rested against each other and she could feel his breath on her lips.
“Fuck,” she moaned as she felt him tense inside of her, rubbing every wall. He helped her move, pushing the heel of his palms into her hips.
He waited until she found her rhythm before he removed his hands to wrap them around her stomach pulling her impossibly close to his chest. She braced herself, wrapping her arms under his and digging her nails into his shoulder blades. He moaned into her hair and placed a dozen soft kisses down her neck as the fire ravaged her from the inside like a wildfire.
“Don’t stop,” Steve groaned, “I want you to fuck me so hard you see stars,” he bit down gently into the skin of her shoulder as she moved faster.
His words pulled a sultry moan from Sloan’s lips and she felt herself clench around him. God, this man had a way with his words and they were going to send her right over the edge. Her pleasure rippled down her spine as he hit just the right angle.
Sloan found her rhythm and their sounds filled the small bedroom. Their sticky bodies pressed together in perfect harmony as she found his lips with hers once more, swallowing each other's moans.
She could feel him twitch inside her as she clenched and fluttered around him, both of them chasing that high from the other, relishing in every part of each other. His hands gripped her sides tightly, surely leaving little purple marks that Sloan was more than happy about.
“Fuck Steve... I’m gonna…” She breathed as a moan caught in her throat.
He jutted his hips up against her, matching her movements as he whimpered and nodded his head, burying his face into her long dark hair. “Keep going… Just like that…” He panted.
Tears pricked at the corners of Sloan’s eyes, as that fire reignited itself, pushing her closer and closer to the finish line and she could tell that Steve was right there with her.
“Steve…” A sob fell from her lips, as a tear escaped down her cheek.
He pulled his head up, and kissed the droplet away, moving his lips back to hers. “I’m right here sweetheart… I’ve got you.”, he whispered. “You can let go...” He moaned.
Another sob came from her chest, as she pushed herself over the edge into her second orgasm, squeezing and fluttering around Steve’s cock, pulling him right over with her. They collapsed into each other, breathing deeply and hearing their hearts hammering at the same pace.
Steve traced her collarbone, and up her neck with soft kisses whispering sweet nothings into her skin, as his hands roamed her body casually. He scooted himself downwards to lay onto the matters and pulled Sloan tight into his chest, instantly making her feel safe once more.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and cast his amber eyes over her features as she nestled into his chest. “Are you okay?” he asked, as he heard her sniffle.
“I’ve never been better…” She admitted, looking up at him and shooting him a soft smile.
A warm smile spread across his face as he ran his thumb along her cheek, wiping away the tears that had escaped. Steve dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her lips, lingering for just a moment before laying his head back down, squeezing her body against his own.
For the first time in a long time, she felt completely relaxed. The warmth of his body and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled her to sleep without worry or anxiety of the loneliness seeping back in when the morning came. He felt like Home to her and being wrapped in his arms only solidified that.
**
Sloan rolled over with a deep sigh, her fingers stretching across the cool sheets, the only warmth she felt was coming from the golden sun shining through the open space between the curtains. She reached for Steve, only to come up empty-handed.
Her eyes fluttered open, lifting her head slightly to see the empty space next to her. Sloan's heart sunk in her chest. Just like the storm, he was gone.
She sat up on the bed, covering her chest with the sheet as she leaned against the headboard. Sloan could feel the dull ache between her legs, only making her heart sink that much further at the thought of him leaving. She should have known. Should have trusted her gut the moment his amber eyes landed on her.
Sloan swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She planted her feet onto the cold hardwood floor before pushing herself up. As she rounded the bed, she stopped short at the familiar dark blue shirt puddled on the floor.
On tiptoes, she made her way over, grasping the fabric between her fingers as the sounds of dishes clanking together floated up the massive stairwell.
She sucked in a breath, trying to hold back the sob currently stuck in her throat as she wrapped his shirt around her, buttoning a few buttons to cover herself. Sloan padded down the stairs, the sounds of dishes clanking together getting louder and accompanied by what sounded like him humming.
Sloan leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, watching him float about. The muscles in his back flexed with each movement he made over the stove. Hips gently swayed back and forth as his humming got louder. She bit her lip watching him. His hair was curled in every which way, the golden locks catching in the morning sun as he turned to his left, shaking the pan so the star-shaped pancake could slide easily around it. With an expert flick of his wrist, the pancake flew through the air, landing perfectly back onto the pan.
A wide smile spread across her lips as he turned back to the stove.
Can flip anything in the air and always catch it.
She rounded the countertop, wrapping her arms around his waist. He let out a hum that vibrated through her as she pressed her lips to his back, trailing across his shoulder blades until he spun around her arms. Steve grinned down at her, kissing her softly as he cupped her face.
"Good morning," he muttered against her lips, "I made pancakes."
Sloan smiled again, "They smell amazing."
"They're a Harrington family secret." He smirked, kissing her again, earning him a playful smack against his chest.
