Two men feeding me decadent desserts? How is this my life?
CHAPTER 45
CALLIE
After I take the offered bite, Miles slides the cake plate closer to Max and me. “You two can finish everything. I’m full.”
“Are you sure? Want more of the shortcake?” I offer.
“I’m sure. How are your feet feeling?”
“Still a little sore. I hope tomorrow’s shoes aren’t so tight.”
“Let me see.” Miles pushes his chair back from the table and angles it so that I can extend my leg and rest my foot in his lap.
Max offers me another spoonful of custard, while Miles gently inspects my foot. “You didn’t get a blister. That’s good.” When I nod, my mouth full, he asks, “Do you like to have your feet rubbed?”
I lift my brows and shrug as I swallow the food. “I don’t know. I’ve never had someone do that. They didn’t do my feet at the spa today.”
“Some people are too ticklish.” Max reaches for a spoonful of whipped cream from the shortcake, and I was right; watching one of the men eat it is definitely a turn-on.
I’m still staring at Max’s mouth, when Miles says, “Only one way to find out. I’ll try not to tickle you.” Miles presses his thumb into the bottom of my foot and slides it over the pad toward my toes. He repeats it a second time, and I melt.
“Ohh! Wow, I didn’t expect that to feel so good.”
He strokes down toward my heel, and it feels even better. “Good. I’m glad you like it.”
Max gives me another bite of crème brûlée, and if I thought having two men feed me was decadent, having one feed me while the other rubs my feet is the new pinnacle of pleasure. I probably shouldn’t let myself be spoiled this way, because this will be a hard experience to top.
Looking for a distraction, I say, “Miles, did you notice that Mr. Hargrove left the rehearsal dinner before the entrées were served?”
Miles keeps his focus on my foot as he gently pulls on each of my toes, one at a time. “Oh, did he?”
“He never did come back, at least not before we left.”
“Maybe he had to make a phone call,” Max says. He offers me another bite of dessert, but I shake my head. I’m getting full, too.
“Long phone call. I kept imagining him sneaking out to have a private meeting with the greasy-haired man. I’m being silly, aren’t I, acting like I’m a spy? Did you guys ever watchThe X Files?”
Both brothers say they have.
“Mr. Hargrove reminds me of the Cigarette Smoking Man. Maybe that’s why he seems so suspicious.”
“Yeah, he does, now that you mention it,” Max says.
“It’s the hair,” Miles says, and the three of us laugh together.
“Maybe I can convince my mom he’s up to no good, and she’ll stop flirting with him.” I say this entirely as a joke, but the men stop laughing. They’re probably thinking about how I don’t stand up to my mom, and maybe they’re right about it being something I need to change.
“Your sister looked like she was having a good time,” Miles says.
“Yeah, she was.” I get a warm glow at the thought of it. I’m so happy everything is going well for her, especially after all the stressful preparations.
Max puts the dessert dishes back on the cart and wheels it into the hallway for pickup, as Miles switches to my other foot. I’m starting to feel very relaxed, even though his touch sends excited sensations straight up my legs to my core.
“I’m having a lot more fun than I expected, too,” I tell them when Max returns. “Despite the disruptions.”
I’m feeling so good right now that I don’t even want to mention my ex’s name.
