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She insisted on doing that herself, her hair pushed into some semblance of order and a robe that had seen better days pulled modestly over her body.
“I’ve got this. This town runs on gossip the way a train runs on tracks. The last thing I need is for some kid to start spreading it around that the coffee lady is gettin’ some.”
Cutter raised his slightly bushy eyebrows. “Gettin’ some?”
“What?” She shot finger guns at him and bobbed her head to the side. “I’m hip. I’m cool. I can use the lingo.”
When she came back to the bedroom with the cardboard box, a couple of soda cans stuck in her pockets, and a roll of paper towels, he snickered again. It didn’t sound as rusty now and it made her inordinately proud that she was the one who made him laugh more easily.
“You know you didn’t fool anyone, right?” He was sitting up in bed and had propped up her pillow beside him against the headboard. “There’s no hiding that you look thoroughly and freshly fucked.”
Oh god. Was he right? Tracy had glanced in the mirror before she left the room to make sure nothing was exposed, but now she took a second look.
He rose to stand behind her and that’s when she saw what he meant.
It wasn’t just the messy hair or the tight grip she had on the faded green terry. It was the glow of happiness that surrounded her like an aura of joy. Also, her lips were kiss-swollen and there was a blush of beard burn surrounding the faint bruise of a love bite he’d left on the side of her neck. A flush of pink darkened her cheeks, and he chuckled, low and dark.
“By the time you go back to the shop on Monday, everyone in town is gonna know the coffee lady is getting’ some.” He bopped his head and she cracked up because his dick, impressive even when it was soft, bobbed along with the movement.
“Oh hush, you, or I won’t let you have any of this delicious pizza.”
Cutter growled playfully and swatted her ass. “Oh, you won’t? Withholding food and drink is a violation of the Geneva Convention, you cruel, cruel woman. Let’s see if I can change your mind.”
Her pretense at retreat was entirely unsuccessful. Somehow, she didn’t mind when the sash on her robe loosened and his eyes heated with desire. They ended up eating the pizza cold and drinking warm soda much later.
By the time her dad’s truck pulled into the driveway, she and Cutter were both fully dressed, her bed was neatly made with yet another set of fresh sheets, and dinner was being prepped. Cutter stood at the island, dicing onions and bell peppers while his coffee went cold in a cup that read “I’m not arguing, I’m explaining why I’m right.” Rice was cooking on the stove to go with the quick stir-fry they’d planned.
She thought her quick inhalation was silent, but her man glanced up at her, his eyes warm with concern.
“You all right, little mama?”
“Yeah, sure.” Lie. “Maybe a little nervous.”
“I get it. Everything will turn out, sugar.” He put down the knife and wiped his hands on the towel he’d tucked into the waistband of his jeans. She hadn’t seen his glove since the moment she pulled it off during their first encounter and now she barely noticed the scars.
Cutter, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with his hand, eventually tucking the two fingers into his back pocket.
“I see you’re not nervous, either.” She nudged him with her elbow. Somehow, the knowledge that he was a little on edge made it easier for her to relax.
He smirked and took his hand out of his pocket, then opened his arms to her. She’d just stepped into his embrace to feel his lips touch her temple when the front door banged open. Her son thundered into the house with as much noise as an entire football team.
“Hi Mom!”
“Hey Aidan, how was your trip?”
ChapterSeven
Cutter was sweating. He hadn’t been this nervous since he’d been in EOD training, but he figured this was similar. Once he knew what to do, fear of the bomb became something he could control. It was every other variable that could blast everything to hell.
Tracy was his solid rock. Doubt didn’t enter his mind when it came to the woman he loved. But her son and her father were pretty important variables and all he could do was try not to blow shit up with them.
Aidan skidded to a stop, flailing a little when he saw them. Cutter knew the picture they presented with his arms around the kid’s mom. Tracy looked as calm and elegant as ever, but he’d watched her enough to know her chin was lifted just a touch more than usual, and she held herself a little too tightly.
“Mom?” The boy’s voice wavered uncertainly as he looked from his mother to Cutter and back again.
Shit, this wasn’t going to be easy.
“Hey buddy,” she said, her smile a little strained. “Did you have a good time?”
