Another thing he didn’t miss was that he was being evaluated by Abigail.
He didn’t mind.Good friends were good friends, that was part of the job of being a good friend, and he was glad Mabel had a friend like that close.
But he and Mabel were adults.She was the most together woman he’d met.
And Abigail didn’t know that Hutch had his finger firmly on that pulse, not so he could instigate damage control, but so he could manage it so there was minimal to no damage.
She’d learn.
He hoped.
He was so in it, and so at one with it, when Mabel pulled the chocolate pudding cake out of the oven and scooped that decadence out with a mound of ice cream on top, the scent of chocolate was so strong, it permeated the entire cabin.
It also created the first situation since he’d faced a homemade cinnamon roll that Nadia had made over a year ago.
Thus, Hutch had broken form by saying, “Small bowl for me,” when Mabel was asking for orders.
And again, he didn’t miss she didn’t speak word one.
Sure, she cocked her head to the side, gave him a look and a small smile, but nothing so big she’d bring attention to him, and definitely she shoveled no shit his way.
She just dished that goodness up.
And it was so fucking good, he wanted to do what Emma did.
Shove his face in the bowl and lick it clean.
It was a great afternoon.A great evening.Kids around.Dogs happy they had kids around.Music playing.And Moxie had all sorts of stuff to keep her eye on.
He felt he passed a test when Abigail gave him a tight hug before she got in their truck.
And it felt nice to stand on the porch with his arm around Mabel’s shoulders, hers around his waist, as she waved them into the dark.
The thing was, Hutch had never had a friend with benefits either.
So he had no idea, both Abigail and Brett Buckner, sitting in the front seat of their truck, seeing the couple as they were on the porch, knew those two people were friends, there were benefits, but that was not what they were in the slightest.
Not even close.
TWENTY-ONE
Quid Pro Quo
Hutch
“Fucking hell,” Hutch growled, the words escaping his lips involuntarily half a second before he shot his load into Mabel’s hot, wet mouth.
She kept sucking him off as he jetted, but gentled as he started to come down, then slipped him out and climbed up to straddle his lap where he sat, pillows packed behind him against her scrolled-iron headboard, his knees cocked.
He rounded her with his arms as she nuzzled under his jaw, enjoying this as he slid one hand up her neck and into her soft hair.
“Okay,” he grunted.“You win.You ruined me for other women.”
He knew this was no lie.
He also knew it was a problem.
One he wasn’t going to face right then, with Mabel’s body keeping him warm.
