I just might do anything for her, regardless. She didn’t hold what I said against me. She’d been nothing but kind and funny and so damn relatable, I wasn’t sure if I should pretend to be sick and sleep on the couch. I woke up this morning hugging the body pillow between us. If it hadn’t been there, I might’ve rolled right into her and dragged her into my arms.
The first pop sounded from the pan. I took off the lid and dumped in the rest of the kernels. Now it was a waiting game.
I wandered the kitchen, and as soon as I closed in on the fridge, I came to a stop. She’d hung the images from the ultrasound up with a magnet. Bean faced me, and I stared at it.
That little bean was related to me. I would be an uncle.
Warm affection spread through my chest, but there was something else with it, something I was afraid to identify. A growing desire to be more.
I put my back to the fridge and sucked in a breath. I was more. I was helping Bean’s mom get her footing. For a couple of months, I was Bean’s stepdad. Once this marriage ended, I’d still be an uncle. I’d still be in Clover’s life. Right?
A burn ignited behind my ribs, and I went back to the popcorn. I was the guy taking care of Bean’s mom right now, and I didn’t take that job lightly. This was my time to prove I was better than my family. I was better than my brother.
Was I really a better kisser?
Nope. Not my business.
The oven timer went off. I took the brownies out. Once all the snacks were done, I entered the living room with a bowl of extra-buttery popcorn and a plate of gooey brownies.
Clover straightened on the couch, the blanket falling from her chest. She wore a thin shirt and leggings, hence the throw. My hold tightened on the food. Her nipples poked through the fabric like two determined pebbles, trying to drive me out of my mind.
I could control myself. As long as I didn’t wake up humping the pillow in the morning.
“No way!” Her eyes grew wide, and delight lit them up. “You made brownies? I thought you were in there for a while, and it smelled good, but I was afraid to get my hopes up.” She did a little shoulder wiggle.
Fuck me. I couldn’t take that image with me to bed.
“I found a box of brownie mix.” I dropped to the other side of the couch and set the food on the coffee table. “I made sure to put the edges all on one side if you’re an edges person.”
“Hell yes, I am.”
She grabbed one and bit into it. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she moaned.
I yanked a throw pillow over my crotch in case my dick couldn’t handle that sound, and I took a handful of popcorn.
She swallowed and licked crumbs off her fingers.
I was in trouble tonight. I barely got over kissing her, and now I was lusting over every single move she made.
“You didn’t have to make these, but thank you.” She popped the rest of the brownie into her mouth.
“You’re welcome.”
She moved the popcorn bowl to sit between us on the cushions. “I haven’t enjoyed a Friday night like this in so long.”
I hadn’t had a girl say she enjoyed a night with me in a long time. One of the scars Hillary left inside me healed right over. “What would you normally be doing?”
Her chewing slowed, and her gaze got a faraway look. Before she answered, she took a long drink of her mineral water. “I was convincing myself that I loved cocktail bars with ridiculously uncomfortable chairs and drinks that are too strong and too expensive.”
“I’m familiar with those nights.”
Interest lit her eyes. “You are? I don’t take you for a cocktail guy.”
“There was a time.” I needed a brownie for these memories. “I had to wine and dine investors, earn their trust, and make them believe I could deliver on all the things I said I would. And I could’ve.” It was important to me to tell her. I would’ve kept my word. “But that wasn’t how I would’ve chosen to spend those nights.”
I stuffed a brownie between my lips.
“Since you’re chewing, I’ll tell you what I would’ve rather been doing.” She brandished a piece of popcorn pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “I would’ve loved to go rockhounding on the weekends. Do some mild camping and hike the riverbeds. I’d love to go to the Badlands and look for agates.”
