He ended the call and shut off his car to make his way across the street. Just like the first time he’d gone to Honor’s the night after his parents’ anniversary party, his pulse raced with a combination of nerves and anticipation. He was doing his best to keep the sliver of doubt from earlier in the day from rearing its ugly head when his phone buzzed a text notification.
Honor: Door’s open.
Realizing she must’ve seen him, he tried for a glimpse through the kitchen window but saw she’d drawn the curtains. The door handle easily twisted beneath his hand, and he called out, “Hello,” as he stepped inside.
“In here,” she replied from the kitchen.
All it took was the sound of her voice to make his heart leap with excitement. As he shut the door, his gaze snagged on a pair of charcoal gray leggings lying on the floor near the entry, and with his next step, he saw a pink T-shirt crumpled near the foyer wall. Curiosity took him around the corner, and his brain registered a bra and panties scattered halfway between him and the kitchen island at the same moment he lifted his gaze.
His instinct to confirm what he’d seen on the floor was instantly overridden by his stunned double take when he saw Honor next to the island holding a pastry bag of frosting—wearing nothing but her apron. Her hair was down, the luscious red curls spilling over her shoulders and down her back, but it was the sight of her bare breasts, the outer edges of her dusky pink areolas peeking out on either side of the apron, that robbed him of his breath and sent a jolt of heat fizzing through his veins.
“How do you feel about dessert first?” she asked in a slightly unsure voice.
He forced his steps to be slow and deliberate while raking his greedy gaze down the length of her luscious body and back up to her beautiful, flushed face. “I’m always up for frosting.”
Right now. Literally.
Her gaze dropped below his waist, then lifted, and the tremulous smile she gave him wiped away any doubt festering in his mind. Or his fear of it anyway.
She still looked a little nervous when he moved in for a kiss, but she raised her arms to loop around his neck. He crushed her close, devouring her mouth, relishing her sweet scent and savoring the unique flavor of her on his tongue. His restless hands slid down past the apron strings at the small of her back, and he groaned against her lips when he cupped her bare ass to tug her against his arousal.
“Best dessert ever,” he declared, his voice rough.
“You’ve barely gotten a taste,” she breathed.
“Hmm.” He walked her around to the side of the island next to the sink and hoisted her onto the empty counter. Empty save for a condom. “As of right now, I have a new rule about dessert.”
“What’s that?”
He captured her gaze as he took the bag of frosting from her hand. “Take my time and savor every bite.”
Her throat muscles worked in a hard swallow, but her heated green gaze never left his as she reclined on her elbows and shook her hair back over her shoulders. The movement jostled her breasts, spilling them farther out the sides of the apron. He moved in between her spread legs and piped frosting around the tip of each exposed nipple, his hands trembling with need.
Her breathing had gone shallow by the time he was done, and her low moan of pleasure when he bent to suck the first one clean made his body throb hard. Urgency tensed his whole body, but he honored his new rule and took his time, making her climax twice before sheathing himself to thrust deep into her welcoming heat right there on the counter. Afterward, her warm lips tickled his throat as she murmured his name against his sweat-slick skin.
Right then, he knew it didn’t matter how long they had together. No matter the risk, his heart was indeed hers, and he would cherish every minute with her—be it a week, a month, or thirty-five years.
He prayed for the thirty-five and more.
CHAPTER 29
“This is getting serious.” Mae selected a white chocolate raspberry swirl cupcake from the bakery box on Roxanna’s coffee counter and joined Honor at one of the café tables. “You’ve never been with a guy this long.”
The second part was true. Unless she counted her boyfriend the summer between junior and senior year of high school—which she didn’t. If ‘real’ love didn’t last, then teenage love definitely didn’t last. And it hadn’t even been love with Derek, just him trying to get into her pants.
The first part appeared to be equally as true—which scared the living daylights out of her more each day. It had been a little over three weeks since Asher had brought her a burger, stayed the night, and then woke her up with breakfast in bed. She’d returned the favor by surprising him in the kitchen wearing only her apron. She’d nearly chickened out, but was so glad she hadn’t after he gave her the best sex of her life in the kitchen, and again later upstairs.
Since then, they’d been spending time together every day, learning about each other, their lives, and their families. They talked—sometimes argued—about anything and everything while she baked and he worked on his laptop. Sometimes he stayed overnight at her place, sometimes she walked across the street to his—after Loyal returned to Texas.
They’d eaten dinners together, gone for walks, drives in his Camaro, and even mountain biking a couple times. H
e took that shit as seriously as cars and cake, and she’d still had fun despite sore muscles later.
He’d helped her deliver cakes, and in return, she’d played camera assistant on a couple of his jobs. She discovered she loved watching him work. His concentration, attention to detail, and the instinct he had for getting the perfect shot made him an exceptional photographer, no matter if the subject was plant, animal, landscape, or person. She’d even found herself his subject on more than one occasion, both while working and playing.
Things seemed perfect. She was happier with Asher than she could ever remember being, which was the exact reason her mounting anxiety was becoming harder to brush aside. Chest-tightening panic had struck a few times in their quiet moments together. Emotional moments. He always managed to say or do something just right to make her smile, or laugh, or turn her into a mindless puddle of desire, but when she was by herself, fear, doubt, and common sense would resurface with a vengeance.
Seeming perfect wasn’t perfect, and something this good couldn’t last. All she had to do was look at his parents. His mother had returned home last week, and while she put on a good public face with the governor, Asher had told her they were still not speaking in private. The household was positively glacial as they awaited the results of the second DNA test Grayson had finally consented to have done.