“Why not? You can practice on me,” I said. She arched an eyebrow, the blond hairs glinting from the light of the kitchen.Shit, that sounded naughty.And the accompanying images that infiltrated my brain were just as bad.
I cleared my throat. “Come on. Just try it out.”
“What would be the point?” Her shoulders sagged. “I’m just going to go on another date, and I’m going to freak out and then freeze or word vomit. Or whatever. And the entire time, I’m going to be wondering if he likes kids or if he just wants to get in my pants. And then, I’m going to be thinking about having sex and whether I’m going to suck, and…”
“Whoa. Whoa. Hold up.” I held up my hands. “Take a breath, cowgirl.”
She did as I asked, but then her eyes caught on the box I’d brought home. “Is that what I think it is?”
“What do you think it is?” I taunted.
“Don’t tease me, Bennett. If that doesn’t contain some of Asher’s pastries, then you need to leave and not come home again until you have some.”
I held a hand to my chest, feigning hurt, though I loved the sound of that word on her lips.Home. The more time I spent here, the more it came to feel like home. In all the years I’d lived at my place, it had always felt like somewhere I slept. A house, never my home. But Wren and River—they were my home.
You don’t belong here.
I stood, pushing my feelings aside. Shoving them into a box like the pastries I was currently holding.
I returned to the couch and lifted the lid to reveal four beautiful pastries. “We have to save one for River. I promised.”
“Okay.” She nodded, but her eyes were on the pastries, gleaming with hunger and delight. If only she’d look at me that way. “So, I get three?”
I snapped the lid shut just before she could reach in. “Um. You get one.”
“What?” she practically shrieked. “I’m sure you already had some over at Tristan’s. I should at least get two.”
I considered it a moment, then finally said, “Okay. I suppose you’re right.”
“Open it. Open it,” She chanted while bouncing on the couch, making her tits sway. I nearly dropped the damn thing.
“Don’t you want a plate?” I opened the box and watched as she debated which one she wanted, finally selecting one.
“No. But I do want you to be quiet and let me savor this pastry.”
I laughed, at least until she glared at me.
“Okay. Okay,” I whispered. “Do I need to leave the room so you can have some alone time with your pastry?”
“Bennett!” she hissed. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
My shoulders shook with silent laughter, and I set the box on the coffee table before grabbing the remote. I switched on the TV and navigated toTheGreat British Bake Off.
“Ohmagoh,” she said around a bite. “I love you. This is so, so,sogood.”
I imagined her saying those words in a different context. One with a lot less clothing and a lot more touching.
She finished the first pastry, and I tried not to watch the entire time. Finally, she sat back with a satisfied smile on her lips. Again, here I was imagining a totally different context. Her body splayed out on the bed. Her lips plump from my kisses. Her skin marked from my touch.
When she turned to me, the devil was dancing in her eyes. And I knew I was in trouble.
“You know how you’re always trying to pay rent, help around the house?”
“Yeah.” I wanted to be glad she might finally be changing her stance, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like where this was going.
“Well, I thought of something I could use your help with.”
I furrowed my brow. “What’s that?”
