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“Nice. All right, then, you can drive her.” Those green eyes of hers lit with excitement, but he held up a hand as his stomach rumbled. “Tomorrow. Right now, I’ve got hot pizza and haven’t eaten since noon, and…I want my two cupcakes.”
Her wide grin told him she caught his adaptation of the Better Off Dead quote. “I hope you know you have to share,” she warned on her way past. “I got caught up in work and forgot about dinner.”
“I wouldn’t have brought it in if I wasn’t willing to share.” He followed her inside, relishing her cake-scented wake as he watched the sway of her hips. “It’s the least I can do for dropping in uninvited a second time in less than a week.”
Every inch of the kitchen island and back counter was occupied by a large square cake, frosting bowl and pastry bag, and a multitude of tools that looked like they had nothing to do with cake baking. Asher shifted direction to set the pizza and beer on her kitchen table.
Honor brought over plates and napkins. “Is this going to become a habit?”
“Depends on if you mind.”
“That depends on your pizza toppings.”
“Pepperoni, sausage, and fresh mushrooms.”
“I don’t mind at all.” She lifted the box lid, then closed her eyes as she inhaled the aroma with a low, “Mmmm.”
Asher shoved his sleeves up to his elbows as he stared at her mouth. It took everything he had to not reach out and pull her into his arms. He craved another taste of those lips while every inch of her luscious curves pressed against him. He wanted her making that sound of pleasure because of him, not the pizza.
Reining in his over-zealous libido, he handed her a plate and offered a beer. A couple of bites into his first piece, he glanced at her island counter. “I can’t tell if you’re baking, doing construction, sculpting pottery, or landscaping.”
She followed his gaze, then laughed. “I use the level to make sure one side isn’t higher than the other. The pruning shears are to cut the dowel supports for each layer.”
“And all the other stuff?”
Honor walked over to the counter to explain her use for the hammer, square, turntable and the rest of the tools while she finished her slice and he ate a second. After she washed her hands, she reached into the pastry box on the back counter before facing him with two chocolate frosted cupcakes that made his mouth water almost as much as she did.
He prayed she wasn’t a stickler for the rules of this engagement. “I don’t have your plate.”
She drew back with an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, no, now what?”
He offered a hopeful lift of his eyebrows. “I’ll bring it by tomorrow?”
“How do
I know you’re not just saying that because my cupcakes seduced you?”
When she scissored the treats up and down, he gave a bark of laughter. He was seduced by both sets of ‘cupcakes’ within his view. “I give you my word.”
After one last teasing moment of consideration, she set the cupcakes next to the pizza box before returning to the island. As she started back to work, he swiped up half his dessert and took a seat on one of the stools to watch her process with keen interest.
His first bite of the chocolate cupcake brought forth a deep moan of approval. “This is so good…and the frosting…oh my God.”
“Glad you like it.”
Her pleased smile was directed down at her hands, and then she gave him a contradictory shy glance through her lashes that was so hot he gripped the edge of the counter and bit back another groan.
Her gaze flicked to the raw scrape on his forearm before she dropped it back to the cake. “How was your trip? You were home later than you said.”
“Were you watching for me?”
“No.”
That reply was so quick, he had to hide his grin with another bite of cupcake. After he swallowed, he gave her an abbreviated version that skipped the part about the fall that had him dreading how his body would feel in the morning. Especially his bruised shoulder. Even with the random surges of sexual chemistry, the dull throb of discomfort was starting to seep through again.
“I don’t think that’s the whole story,” she said while transferring the frosted cake into a large refrigerator. She brought back two more naked ones a size smaller than the last, and proceeded to slice them in half horizontally with a tool that had wire stretched between two rods that curved up to meet on top. When he didn’t reply to her comment, she paused to arch her eyebrows at him, her gaze lingering on his tender left cheekbone.
“A couple days with Rox and suddenly you’re psychic, too?” he groused with a grin.
