He grinned. “Well, you’ve certainly got the latter down.”
She froze, eyes darting over to him, a million questions burning in her gaze. Looked like they were traversing all kinds of firsts today. They’d had fifteen-plus years of friendship where they didn’t discuss their attraction to each other—though, after that weekend at his cabin ten years ago, he knew they’d both been feeling that and a whole lot more for who knew how long.
And then they’d had a decade of this weird limbo where they both knew there could be so much more between them, but they didn’t act on it. He’d wanted to. More than anything, he’d wanted to call her his, even while he was half a world away. Honestly, if he’d had it his way, he’d have married her right then and there in that cabin before either of them had left to go their—temporarily—separate ways.
But Kenna had made her desires known, and they didn’t include the two of them together. They’d been her terms, and he trusted her to know her own limitations, so he hadn’t pushed.
But Christ, he’d wanted to. Still did.
Kenna cleared her throat and pointed to the fresh peaches he’d peeled and prepped earlier. “That’s a whole lot of peaches. How do you know that’s still what I like?”
He froze and lifted his head, his eyes narrowing on her. Last time he’d talked to Momma, she’d mentioned Kenna ordering a couple peach pies—her favorite. Had been the only currency she’d ever accepted whenever she’d helped in the bakery while they’d been teens. “Don’t tell me you’re a blueberry girl now.”
She scrunched up her nose, her lips making this adorable little pout, and he barked out a laugh. “No, I’mnotinterested in the devil’s fruit, thank you very much. How dare you suggest such a thing.”
He grabbed a handful of blueberries from the ever-present bowl his momma kept filled with fresh fruit and held up his fist. “Oh, you mean these?”
Kenna scrambled behind her chair, narrowing her eyes and pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you even think about sneakin’ those in any of my pies, Hudson Matthew Miller.”
“Damn, girl, three-namin’ me five minutes in? That’s harsh.”
“You deserve that and a whole lot more. I swear, if you—”
“Nah, I wouldn’t do that.” He tossed the entire handful into his mouth and chewed loudly, smiling at her through no doubt blue-stained teeth. “But how about a welcome home kiss?”
She gave him a look of absolute horror before screeching as he lunged for her. “Don’t youdare, Hud. Don’t you fucking dare!”
After a circuit around the dining room, she leaped up on a chair, her leg poised to hurdle the whole damn table, when Hudson snagged her around the waist and pulled her flush to him.
They’d been this close since he’d been home—twice now—but it still didn’t lessen the effects her body’s nearness had on him. Especially when her heavy breaths brushed against his neck, her breasts pressing against his chest with every deep inhale. His cock was growing thick and hard in his jeans, and there wasn’t much he could do to hide it.
It’d be so easy to drop his head a couple inches, close his eyes, and press his lips to hers. Taste her again for the first time in way too long.
Would be so damn easy, except for the look of pure lust warring with absolute terror in her eyes.
He leaned down, studying every inch of her face, from her lips parted on panting breaths to the color high on her cheeks to that look in her eyes that stayed there until they fluttered shut the closer he got.
Instead of doing what his cock was begging him to—and what he was pretty sure at least seventy percent of Kenna wanted him to do as well—he bypassed her lips and pressed a wet, smacking kiss to her cheek, close enough to her mouth that his dick jumped a little behind his zipper.
Her eyes snapped open, the desire tamped down slightly. “You did not just do that.”
“’Fraid I did.”
“You’re a jerk,” she said, but her words lacked conviction.
“Not the first time you’ve called me that, and probably won’t be the last. You know I love goadin’ you.”
“What you love is havin’ those balls in your mouth, but keep those dirty beasts to yourself.”
Hudson breathed out a laugh, relief and overwhelming desire swarming in his chest. He’d been so worried things wouldn’t still be easy with her. That he’d exaggerated their connection in his mind and reality wouldn’t come close to his memories. Turned out he didn’t have a damn thing to worry about.
The connection, the tension, the spark—it was all still there, only multiplied by a thousand.
He set Kenna on her feet and took a step back, brushing his hands together. “Time to get to work. What do you say we make this a little more interesting?”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“Bet I can make more crusts than you.”
