Chapter 6
Silas
I’m not sure I read that right. I stare at the screen like the words might rearrange themselves if I just glare hard enough.
But nope.
The message from SugarDust is still sitting there, bold as hell.
“… I think about what those huge, hairy hands of his would feel like pinning me down on the counter. ”
Jesus Christ. My cock stiffens so fast it’s embarrassing. I shift in my chair, palms dragging down my jeans as if that’ll do anything to calm the ache building between my legs. This… can’t be right. There’s no way.
It can’t be Eden.
I push back from my desk, chair creaking under the strain, and scrub a hand over my face. My office suddenly feels too small, too warm, and the walls are closing in. I thought I had this handled. I thought I could keep things professional—at least as much as I can with Eden flouncing around in those too-tight jeans and throwing sassy little barbs at me like it’s her full-time job.
But this?
This is dangerous.
I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees as I reread the message for the third—no, fourth—time. Every word feels like a punch to the gut.
She wants me.
She wants me.
The girl I’ve been trying to not think about every damn night when I’m alone. The same girl I get off fantasizing about in the shower. The same girl who’s been haunting my thoughts for years, looking like trouble wrapped in sugar and cinnamon.
Luke’s little sister.
Off limits.
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. I should shut this down. Right now. I should reply, tell her who I am and I’m sorry but this was a mistake. She doesn’t know who she’s talking about. She’s confused. But I can’t stop thinking about her words.
The image of Eden, all flushed and squirming under my hands, spreads like wildfire in my brain. I see the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention—like she wants me to devour her, but she doesn’t know how to ask for it.
I know exactly how she’d taste.
Goddamn it.
My cock hardens.
I slam the laptop shut, pushing it across the desk like that’ll do something to stop the heat curling low in my gut. It doesn’t. Instead, I stand and start pacing, muscles tight as a drum. The floorboards creak beneath my boots, and I glance toward the door leading to her shop downstairs.
She’s down there. Right now. Probably wiping flour off her hands or tossing that wild hair of hers over her shoulder. And she has no idea that she’s just flipped my entire world upside down with one email. No clue that she’s got me so twisted up I can barely think straight.
I should stay put. I should sit my ass down and wait for this to pass. But it won’t. Because Eden isn’t just some girl . She’s Eden. The same girl I’ve wanted to taste, touch, and ruin for years. And apparently… she wants that too.
I’m so fucked.
I lean back in the chair, spreading my legs wide, and grip the edge of the desk like it’ll keep me tethered to reality. It doesn’t.
Because every damn time I close my eyes, she’s there.
Eden.
Bent over the bakery counter, her tits practically spilling out of that too-tight top she always wears like it’s not driving me insane. Flour dusting her chest, the thin fabric clinging to her nipples, and those jeans—the ones that hug her ass so tight it should be illegal.
I can see it so clear. The way her hips would fit right into my hands. The way her pussy would feel if I slid my hand between her thighs and found her soaked and ready. And swollen.
Fuck.
I palm the thick bulge in my jeans, hissing under my breath. I’m already rock hard, and I haven’t even touched myself yet. Just thinking about her is enough to get me this fucking desperate.
This isn’t normal. It’s not healthy.
But I don’t stop.
I let my head fall back, eyes shutting tight as I stroke my cock through the denim. Slow and rough, pretending it’s her hand working me over. I imagine dragging her over the desk, ripping those jeans down her legs, and spreading her wide. Burying my face between those soft thighs until she’s shaking and begging for more.
Her tits would bounce as she writhes under me, those sweet little moans escaping her lips. I want to lick them, suck her nipples until she’s gasping, tugging on my hair and arching that back like she needs me inside her.
Her taste. Her heat. The way her pussy would clamp around my tongue, slick and hot, driving me to the edge. I bet she tastes as sweet as her famous cinnamon rolls.
I can see her coming undone, writhing against the desk, gasping my name—
The office door swings open, slamming against the wall.
I jolt so hard I nearly fall out of the chair. My hand flies off my cock, and I yank the chair forward, shoving the damn thing under the desk so fast it scrapes against the wood.
Luke.
Fuck.
He’s standing there, arms crossed, one brow raised like he caught me red-handed. Well, he kind of did.
“What the hell are you doing?” Luke asks, stepping inside like he owns the place.
I shift in the chair, desperately willing the heat flushing my face to disappear.
“Working,” I grunt, dragging a notepad toward me like that’s going to cover the fact that I was seconds away from jerking off to his baby sister’s tits.
Luke’s eyes narrow, flicking from the desk to me.
“Working, huh?” He glances at his watch. “Well, you forgot we have a meeting. Five minutes ago.”
Shit.
Right. The meeting.
I clear my throat, dragging in a ragged breath as I try to calm the raging hard-on threatening to bust through my zipper.
“Yeah,” I rasp. “Totally forgot. I’m ready.”
Luke squints, but thankfully, he doesn’t press the issue. I force myself to focus. But it’s impossible. Because even with Luke sitting three feet away, all I can think about is Eden’s tits. And how goddamn close I was to losing my mind over her.
Luke’s eyes narrow slightly. “So, are we going downstairs or not?”
“Right,” I mutter, trying to appear as nonchalant as a man who was just picturing his best friend’s little sister bouncing on his cock can. “Yeah. I’ll grab my stuff.”
He doesn’t move. Just crosses his arms, and crap, he’s got that look. The one that says he’s not buying any of my bullshit.
“You sure you don’t need a minute?” Luke smirks. “Seemed like you were having a real intense moment in here.”
I shoot him a glare and grab my tablet off the desk. “Let’s go.”
Luke gives me the “why are you moving like molasses” look, so I shoulder past him and head toward the café.
Big mistake.
Because the second I walk into Eden’s space, she’s right there behind the counter, wiping down tables, her apron tied tight around that little waist.
Just fucking kill me.
Luke slides into the corner booth like this is just another Tuesday and not my personal version of hell. I take the seat across from him, though my eyes keep drifting to Eden as she bustles around the café, oblivious to the havoc she’s wreaking on my self-control.
“Alright, let’s get this over with. I’ve got two invoices from the cabin refurbishments that aren’t lining up, and if we’re missing another damn receipt—”
I barely hear him. Because Eden’s nipples are right there.
Jesus Christ.
She’s behind the counter, stretching to reach something on the top shelf. The thin cotton of her shirt pulls tight across her chest, and the soft peaks of her nipples press against the fabric, practically begging for attention.
I know I should look away. I don’t.
Luke clears his throat. “Silas.”
“Yeah?” I drag my gaze to him, barely.
He gives me a deadpan stare. “You didn’t hear a damn word I just said.”
“Sure I did.” I shift in my seat, hoping like hell my cock isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Something about… receipts.”
Luke snorts, shaking his head. “We need to submit for the contractor fees by the end of the month, but we’re missing paperwork from two jobs. You were supposed to follow up on that.”
Right. The paperwork.
I’ll get to it. Eventually.
“I’ll handle it,” I mutter, writing down nothing on the notepad just to look like I’m doing something other than staring at his sister’s tits.
Luke watches me for a long moment, like he’s piecing something together. And then Eden laughs softly at something Mary says behind the counter—and I’m gone.
It’s not just the sound. It’s the way her whole body curves when she laughs, the way the soft sway of her hips. I swallow hard. Luke leans back in the booth, following my line of sight.
“Right,” he says, voice slow and knowing. “Totally fine.”
I drag my eyes to the ceiling, heat crawling up the back of my neck. I’m fucked.
“Anyway,” Luke says, scrolling through the tablet. “I was thinking of giving those cabin renovations to Josh’s team, but I know you wanted to—”
“Sounds good.”
Luke’s eyes flick up. “You didn’t even let me finish.”
“I trust your judgment.”
Luke snorts. “No, you don’t. You just want to get this over with so you can get back to watching Eden.”
I freeze.
Shit.
“I wasn’t—”
“Silas.” Luke drops the tablet on the table with a thud, levelling me with the big brother stare. “You’re not subtle. You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her?”
My pulse spikes.
“I don’t—”
“You do.” His brows rise. “Hell, I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for years.”
I choke on my coffee. “Years?”
Luke leans in, dropping his voice. “Look, if anyone’s going to end up with Eden, I’d rather it be you. At least I know you’re not some jackass trying to screw her over.”
I stare at him, half convinced I’m hallucinating.
Luke’s always been protective. Eden’s the baby sister. Untouchable. And yet, here he is practically pushing me toward her.
“She’s… your sister,” I say, grasping at straws.
“Yeah. And?” Luke shrugs. “You think I’d trust just anyone with her?”
My jaw clenches. He’s serious. The weight of his words sinks in, heavy and suffocating.
“Maybe it’s not that simple,” I mutter, staring down at the table.
Luke chuckles. “You’re making it complicated. You want her. She’s clearly into you—”
My head snaps up. “What?”
Luke smirks. “Come on, man. You really think she looks at you like that because she’s bored? She looks at you the same way you look at her with longing in her eyes.”
I blink, caught between confusion and something that feels a hell of a lot like hope.
Luke leans back, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m just saying—if you don’t make a move soon, someone else will.”
Fuck that. The thought sends something dark and possessive crawling up my spine. Eden isn’t for someone else. I grip the edge of the table as Luke watches me with that same easy, knowing look.
“Relax,” he mutters, grabbing the tablet. “She’s not going anywhere. Just… think about it.”
Oh, I’m thinking about it. That’s the problem.
Luke’s eyes narrow. “Look, she’s closing soon, and this meeting is going nowhere. Why don’t you talk to her now?”
I nearly choke. “Right now?”
Luke lifts a brow like he can’t believe I’m this stupid. “Yeah, right now. For fuck’s sake, Silas. You’ve waited long enough.”
I swallow hard.
“It’s just…” I drag my gaze back to Luke. “I always respected her as your sister. That meant she’s off-limits.”
Luke snorts. “Yeah. I figured that out around year three of you mooning over her.”
I freeze. “Three?”
Luke shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Could’ve been two. Either way, you’ve been obvious.”
My heart thunders. I sit back, gripping the edge of the booth, like somehow this whole conversation might slip through my fingers if I’m not holding on tight enough.
“So, you’re telling me that after five years of keeping all this fucking distance, all it takes is one conversation with you and you’re giving me your blessing?”
“Silas.” His voice dips low. “I’d rather you be the man in her life than some asshole who doesn’t know the first thing about treating her right. Someone I’d have to worry about or beat the shit out of if he broke her heart.”
I blink. For a second, I just sit there. Stunned. And then the full weight of his words slams into me like a freight train. This is happening.
Luke’s giving me the green light.
To her.
I glance at the counter again; at the way Eden bites her lip as she scribbles something in her note- book. Fuck, I’m screwed.
Because now that I have permission, I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do. Because when I cross that line—there’s no going back.
Luke claps me on the shoulder and stands, stretching like this wasn’t the most life-altering conversation I’ve ever had.
“I’m out. Don’t screw it up big guy or I’ll rip your dick off and feed it to you.”
He tosses a wave to Eden as he passes the counter, and she gives him a distracted smile, too busy wiping down trays to pay much attention. I wait. The last few customers throw some bills on the table and leave.
Mary unloops her apron, tossing it over a hook. “I’m heading out, Eden. You need anything else?”
Eden shakes her head. “Nope. I’ve got it. See you tomorrow.”
The second the bells jingle behind Mary, I know I should leave. I should grab my keys, say goodnight, and get the hell out of here.
But I don’t.
I get up and walk over to her. I lean against the counter, watching Eden move through the empty café, stacking trays and wiping down tables, the sway of her hips keeping me rooted in place.
She’s too damn tempting. Too damn close. I shouldn’t want her this bad. But it’s not just want. It’s been a slow, aching burn for years—one I’ve tried to ignore, one I’ve been given permission to no longer ignore.
“You’re staring,” she says, not even looking at me.
I smirk, pushing off the counter. “Maybe.”
That gets her attention.
Her head snaps up, blue eyes narrowing as she tosses the rag onto the counter. “Something on your mind, Matthews? I don’t need you to babysit me.”
Yeah.
But I can’t say it.
I can’t tell her how bad I want to haul her over the counter and kiss the sass right off her lips. How I want to pull her tight against me and make damn sure she knows exactly how long I’ve been holding back.
So, I keep it light.
“Just making sure you didn’t burn the place down,” I say, letting my eyes drag over her slowly.
Big mistake. Because now I can’t stop looking.
Her lips are pink from where she’s been biting them, her apron cinched tight around that sweet little waist, hugging every curve. And when she shifts, I catch just the faintest press of her nipples against the fabric of her shirt.
Fuck I shouldn’t be here. I need to walk away. But I don’t.
Instead, I step closer—close enough to catch the faintest hint of sugar and vanilla on her skin.
“I’m fine,” she says, blinking quickly when I’m suddenly in her space.
Good. Because I’m done pretending this isn’t happening. I stop at the edge of the counter, my hand resting near hers, our knuckles brushing.
“Sure about that?” I murmur, my eyes locking on hers.
For a second, she freezes.
Then—she’s in my arms. I don’t know who moved first but we’re on each other in seconds and all I know is that her lips are on mine, soft and hungry, her hands fisting the front of my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
Not happening.
I cup the back of her head, tilting her chin up and deepening the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting the sweet, addictive flavor of her. She tastes so damn good.
Fuck.
I’ve imagined this kiss a hundred different ways, but none of them compared to the real thing. Her body presses against mine, soft curves molding to hard edges, and I can feel the rapid thud of her heart through the thin fabric of her shirt.
She gasps when I nip at her bottom lip, and I groan, my hands sliding down to her waist, gripping tight, tugging her closer until she’s flush against me.
My cock throbs against the front of my jeans, hard and aching, and I don’t care if she feels it. I want her to. I want her to know what she does to me. Because I’m done pretending I don’t want this.
I want her.
I need her.
I press her back against the counter, one hand sliding up to cup the side of her neck, tilting her head so I can kiss her deeper, rougher, swallowing the soft little moans she tries to hold back.
And when she arches into me, pressing those soft, perfect tits against my chest, I lose whatever thread of control I had left. My hand slides lower, fingers skimming over the curve of her ass before I grip tight, pulling her flush against me. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t pull away. Instead, Eden presses closer, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles against my cock, and it’s all I can do not to groan into her mouth. She’s gyrating her pussy against my cock.
Fuck.
I palm her ass, kneading her soft flesh through her jeans, dragging her tighter against the length straining behind my zipper. She gasps into my mouth, but I swallow the sound, tilting her head back, deepening the kiss until there’s nothing left but heat and the rough scrape of our tongues.
I need more.
I press her back against the counter, hips pinning her there. Her breasts brush my chest, and I swear I feel her nipples stiffen through her thin shirt, pressing right against me.
I pull back just enough to look down, watching the way her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. Her nipples strain against the fabric, hard and begging for my mouth.
“Eden…” I rasp, my voice thick with want.
Her eyes flicker to mine, hazy and heavy-lidded, but she doesn’t say a word. Just bites her lip, waiting. I don’t make her wait long. I dip my head, closing my mouth around one of her peaks, sucking her nipple right through her shirt.
Goddamn.
Her back arches, pushing herself deeper into my mouth, fingers fisting in my hair as I drag my tongue over the hardened point, tasting the thin cotton stretched over her skin.
She moans low in her throat, and I slide my hand up her waist, cupping her other breast, thumb flicking over the stiff tip.
“Silas,” she pants, breathless now, hips grinding against my cock like she’s chasing something neither of us are ready to stop.
I lift my head, lips dragging over her collarbone, up the curve of her neck, until my mouth hovers near her ear.
“SugarDust.”
Her entire body freezes against me.
“What… what was that?” she whispers, chest rising and falling in sharp little gasps. I rest my forehead against hers, swallowing hard, still trying to catch my breath.
“I knew,” I rasp.
Her brows knit. “Knew what?”
I cup her cheek, thumb brushing her bottom lip. “I’m RuggedRoots.”
Her entire body goes stiff. She blinks once. Twice. Then she shoves me back.
“You’re what?”
“Eden—”
“You knew?” she gasps, eyes blazing now, her fists curling at her sides. “You knew this whole time?”
I rake a hand through my hair, frustrated with how fast this is spiralling.
“I figured it out a while ago. The scones. That picture you sent—”
She lets out a short, breathless laugh, but there’s no humour in it.
“You knew,” she repeats, shaking her head. “You knew I was the one writing to you, and you didn’t say a damn thing?”
“It wasn’t like that,” I growl, stepping toward her.
She steps back.
“No. You just let me spill my guts to some ‘stranger’ while you—” She shakes her head again, blinking hard, like she’s trying to hold it together. “Jesus, Silas. I thought you were different.”
I reach for her hand, but she jerks away, grabbing her keys off the counter, her shoulders rigid.
“I need to lock up,” she mumbles, not even looking at me.
“Eden—”
But she’s already gone.
The bells over the door chime softly, and I’m left standing there, fists clenched at my sides, watching the one damn woman I want slip right through my fingers.