“People do forgive and I’m proof of it,” he says in a low voice.
He told me about his mom, but her actions aren’t his. “You said you were angry, but, Cruz, that’s not what I’m talking about. And you were a kid. I mean, look at you. You’re a stand-up citizen. A regular Huckleberry Springs paragon.”
Emotions play over his face. Deep regret to indecision. The heat in his eyes intensifies, and he lowers his head. Warm, firm lips claim mine, and his warm citrus smell is in my nose.
A surge of desire overwhelms me. I throw my arms around his neck and rise to my tiptoes. Cruz is the best-looking man I’ve ever seen, and I’ve thought that since I first laid eyes on him. He’s sexy and rugged and that flirting of his worked on me more than I’ll ever be able to admit. My attraction has only grown stronger the more I’ve talked to him.
His hot tongue strokes against my lips, and I open for him. No hesitation. He delves deep, and I cling to him, letting him do whatever the hell he wants.
My ass hits the counter, and he lifts me onto it. Plates clink against each other, silverware clatters, but I don’t care. I wrap my legs around him and hook my ankles together. I taste him, his arms are banded around me, and I want to be swallowed by him. Consumed whole.
He splays his hand across my neck, tilting my head back so he can dominate my mouth. And he does. His tongue dances with mine and I’m struggling for breath. My pulse hammers through my veins and beats hard through my pussy. I’m not snugged up against him like I want to be, but I’m close enough that the monster ridge behind his jeans can’t be hidden.
I shamelessly grind closer to him. If I keep doing this, I could come. I’ve wanted him for too long. Someone who can take charge and make me feel safe.
I’m safe right here, in Cruz’s arms.
But he’s not safe from the trouble following me.
I stiffen and pull back, but not far enough to break us apart. He kisses a path down my neck while stroking his thumb against my fluttering pulse point. The throb between my legs pounds stronger.
“Cruz,” I say with a groan. “We shouldn’t.”
He lifts his head, taking his lips off me. I feel the loss deep in my bones. “Because we’re friends?” His voice is so damn deep. Gruff. I made him that way.
“Friends don’t kiss.” I sound breathless, and I want him to steal all my air and hold it for me.
“Some friends do.” He rests his forehead against mine.
I fist my hands into the front of his shirt. “I... can’t.” All the air leaks out of me and I slump. My hands fall away from him.
“I understand.” He feathers my hair away from my face. “We’re still friends though. Right?”
I nod because I’m not strong enough to say no. I spent all of an hour after I ran out on him crying, and I was miserable. I don’t care to experience that again.
He takes a step back and adjusts the front of his jeans, wincing. I look away to keep from getting caught staring, but damn. I was so close to getting that. I would’ve stripped down in this kitchen, hygiene standards be damned.
“I’m here if you want to talk to me about what’s going on.” When I shake my head, he gives me a quelling look. “I haven’t always been this guy, sugar. I might’ve been a kid for most of my trouble, but I fought, I stole, I vandalized. I thought I was so damn smart and that my cockiness was a good trait.” He swaggers to the door while I’m stuck in a puddle of shock. “I was a delinquent, Elodie. I would’ve stayed that way if Myles hadn’t come into my life. The first time I met him, I was being an asshole at the funeral home after my mom died.”
Not Cruz. This guy would not be a dick in a funeral home.
He opens the door and pins me with so serious a gaze I have to believe he was once on the wrong side of the law. “The people who love you, the ones who really matter in your life? They’ll forgive you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cruz
I leave the tractor with the sickle mower at the edge of the field between my house and Lane’s. He’s going to finish, but I have to get to the distillery for the baby shower.
Jamison Hennessy wanted all her friends and immediate family invited to the baby shower for her and Iverson’s son, Tavis. That means all the guys at the distillery outside of her husband, her sisters, and her parents. Elodie and Clem were invited too.
So I’m making sure I’m there.
I stride across the yard to my house, fighting a hard-on the whole way. Every time I think about Elodie and the way she responded to my kiss, I get lightheaded. Blood leaves my brain immediately upon remembering the way she ground against my rock-hard dick.
The woman scrambled my brains with nothing but a kiss.
I made the damn thing count though. Best kiss of my life.
