Chasing Desire (Chasing Love 3)

A knock came at the front door.

Great.

She hustled over and opened it—and froze. “Huck.”

He was still in his tux, but it was unbuttoned, tie hanging around his neck like she’d seen earlier today. Only now he’d ditched the coat and rolled his shirtsleeves, leaving him looking like a sinful version of James Bond meets Kansas bad boy.

She’d thought leaving the wedding would be the last she’d see of him. How had he found—?

Oh. Of course he knew where Colt and Jenna lived.

“I came to give you something since you took off before the best part of the night,” he said.

“And what part is that?” she asked.

He brought forward a hand from behind his back. He was holding a plate. “The cake.”

She frowned at the offering. “You brought me cake?”

He shrugged. “You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself much. And I didn’t see you eat once today.”

“Monitoring my eating habits now?”

He shook his head. “Listen, we don’t have to get along for this to work.” He held up the cake again. “I’m trying to make peace here.”

She rolled her eyes. He was just trying to get her to give in to whatever game he was attempting to play. “Peace, huh?”

“Yep, and before you try to talk yourself out of it, maybe consider this as a kind of wedding present for the two people we both care about. We can at least pretend not to be at each other’s throats.”

Jenna and Colt. The guy in front of her was wrong about a lot, but he wasn’t wrong about that. This was the beginning of their friends’ happily ever after. Autumn would die before she did anything to step on that.

She wondered what it was like for them. To live in a happily ever after thanks to finding each other and doing whatever it took to claim their love. To light up whenever they saw each other come into a room. Usually anytime someone Autumn knew came around, a dark cloud laced with dread wasn’t far behind.

Whether it was from a man—Sorry, Auto, you just don’t do it for me anymore—or her dad—Sorry, Auto, I lost the shop to my bookie.

She’d learned that even if things were going well, it was only a matter of time before the bottom fell out. She looked at the cake—her stomach growled on cue—then glanced at the man holding it. A different kind of growl came from her then, because the guy looked more edible than the slab of vanilla frosting.

Just because I want him doesn’t mean anything serious, or that I will mix that up with him wanting more from me. No matter how sweet the gesture of feeding her.

“Look.” He took a step toward her but remained on the porch. “You’re so hungry I can see drool on the side of your mouth.” Her hand shot to her lips, then she frowned. He only smiled. “Unless you’re drooling for another reason?” He winked, and she wanted to punch him. Maybe kiss him. At least that would solve her drooling problem.

Except then she’d have an even bigger problem.

It was sort of nice that he cared about her hunger though. Thoughtful even.

“You know, in my experience, two things can instantly make a day better,” he said. “Cake is one of them.” He handed her the plate but stayed on the other side of the threshold.

So this was a game after all. But he wasn’t being pushy. And the gesture was sweet. Literally.

“What makes you think I’m having a bad day?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Not bad. Just not good.”

And wasn’t that the observation she didn’t need. Because “not good” sounded like the past several hundred days. Never bad, but never good. She just was. She preferred it that way. A simple existence was a safe existence. But she had to admit, it was starting to get a little lonely.

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

He nodded. “I know. It’s cool.” But there was a seriousness in his voice, almost like understanding. Whatever magic Huck was working on her, she didn’t know how to combat it, because her walls were slowly chipping away.