Every Sweet Regret (Orchid Valley 2)

“I’ll go work on those dishes,” I say, stepping away before he can object.

Inside, the air is cool, and my sun-warmed skin prickles with goose bumps. I get to work loading the dishes and filling the sink with soapy water to wash the serving trays. When I’m still shivering a few minutes later, I grab one of Kace’s hoodies from the back of a kitchen chair and pull it over my head. It’s about three sizes too big, but it’s soft and it smells like him. I bury my face into the neck and breathe in deeply.

“That looks good on you. It’s especially cute with the dress.”

I whip my head up as Kace closes the back door. He strides toward me casually, but his eyes skim up and down, taking in my hoodie-and-sundress combo. “Yeah, I bet this ensemble will be all the rage this fall.” I give him my best apologetic smile. “Sorry. After being in the heat all day, the AC felt super cold. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He turns to the sink and shuts off the water. “You didn’t need to do all this. You saved my ass today, and the least I can do is clean up myself.”

“I wanted to help. Where’s Hope?”

“She went to the arcade with her mom.”

Which means we’re alone. And I’m in his sweatshirt, the smell of him weakening my defenses faster than shots of tequila. And he’s looking at me like . . .

“Cake,” he says, and it jerks me from my hopelessly lovesick and desperate thoughts so fast that I actually feel a little dizzy.

“What?”

His smile is slow and lazy. The kind of smile inspired by a weekend wasted in bed. The kind given after a kiss stolen from a longtime lover. I love that smile so much. From the way his eyes crinkle in the corners to how it drags my attention to his soft lips. “I promised to feed you,” he says. “Cake.”

I grab the dishrag from the sink and swipe it across the counter. “I’ll take a piece with me when I go. It’s no big deal.”

He’s already cutting massive slices and sliding them onto dessert plates. “Every year since her first birthday, I’ve eaten a second piece of cake with my daughter after the guests left. Don’t make me eat alone.”

My heart sinks a little at this admission but is buoyed when he waves the plate in front of me. “Sure.” I grab a fork from the drawer and lean back against the counter as I take a bite. As I anticipated, the sugary frosting melts on my tongue and pulls sex sounds from my throat before I can stifle them.

Kace pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Can we talk about this foodgasm thing?”

I laugh. “Isn’t it kind of self-explanatory?”

“We don’t know what we don’t know, right?” His eyes are glued to my mouth as I slide another bite of cake past my lips. I moan involuntarily—I would do a hundred extra chem labs for Abbi’s buttercream—and he clears his throat. “I thought foodgasm was an exaggeration, but now I’m wondering if it’s . . .”

I put my plate down to resist the urge to stuff my face while he’s standing right there. “What?”

“Um . . . literal?”

I laugh—not a polite, small sound but a deep, full-belly laugh. God, that feels good. I’m sick of walking around sad and stressed all the time. “Like, could I ditch my vibrators and just stuff my bedside table with your sister’s cake?”

He coughs. “That sounds really dirty. Can we not call it my sister’s cake and just go back to the part where I got to watch you moan?”

Yes, please. I really, really want to go back to that part. My cheeks flame hot—not from embarrassment, but from the sheer struggle it takes to wield this much self-control. Kace wants me, and I don’t want to say no. But even if he’s interested in something more than a short-term fling, I can’t bring myself to do what I’d have to do if I wanted to say yes.

“You have . . .” He cups my face in one big hand, and the feel of his rough callouses on my cheek sends a shiver of longing through me. He swipes his thumb across my bottom lip. “Frosting,” he whispers, and tilts my face up to his, and I don’t even know how we ended up close enough for this. At some point, he closed the distance between us. Or I maybe did. At some point, the air was filled with the magnetic vibration of attraction that turns everything over to physics. The two opposite forces must meet.

At some point, I fell in love.

He sweeps his thumb across the corner of my mouth. “Right here.”

I swallow. “All better?”

“Not yet,” he says, and slowly lowers his mouth to mine.