Heartbreaker (Havenbrook #3)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

HUDSON

I couldn’t lie—getting walloped by Kenna twice in as many days was hard on the ego. I’d thought I’d have a hand up in this particular competition—what since I’d baked approximately seventeen thousand pies in my lifetime—but it’d been a long time since I’d been home. Even longer since I’d baked a pie. And apparently Kenna hadn’t let her expertise in that area wane.

I glanced at her neatly laid-out pie tins in front of her, each with a perfectly formed and pinched crust, then narrowed my eyes on her. “Did you hustle me?”

She wiped her hands on the dish towel hanging over her shoulder. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“I mean you just finished your sixth crust, and I’m barely on three. You get a job over at the shop that no one filled me in on?”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Not technically, but I may have helped a time or two.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. When Marianne had her surgery and they’d needed someone immediately. They couldn’t train anyone fast enough to fill in while she was out for recovery. So, I jumped in. Started that day and worked for a couple weeks till they got things sorted.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was a hell of a big deal to me.

I’d never forget receiving the call that my momma had been in a serious car accident. I’d been stationed overseas, in Germany, unable to come home on leave. I hadn’t been able to do a damn thing but wait for updates from Lilah, angry at myself that I hadn’t been home to help either of them. And Kenna’d been here, ensuring things ran smoothly for my family.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice full of gravel. I leveled my gaze on hers, making sure she saw the sincerity in my eyes. “For taking care of them while I’ve been gone.”

Her face softened, and she placed her hand on my forearm. “They’re pretty good at takin’ care of themselves, Hud.”

“I know.” I nodded. “They are.” Turning to face her, I propped my hip against the counter. “But you’re pretty good at takin’ care of people and then not takin’ credit for any of it.”

Her brows shot up. “Seems everyone loves tellin’ me that. You been talkin’ to Will since you’ve been home?”

“Nah. I just know you. And some things might’ve changed, but not that. You proved as much last night at the bar with Darcy and Atticus.”

Kenna hated having the spotlight shined on her—always had. Still did, if her uncomfortable squirming was anything to go by. If I were a betting man—and I was—I’d lay down money on her deflecting next.

“You remember our last bet before you left?” she asked.

Annnnd, there it was. The deflection. As was my damned erection, back with a vengeance. Did I remember? Of fucking course I remembered. It’d only been one of the best and worst days of my entire life. Finally being with her how I’d fantasized about for so long, but also revealing the secret I’d been keeping from her for months and nearly tearing us apart in the process.

As it turned out, I tore us apart anyway.

At some point, I’d stepped closer to her because suddenly there wasn’t any space between us. She stared up at me, her eyes glazed and lips parted. My cock was rock hard and aching, remembering exactly what that bet had led to. A kiss in a fishing boat, an impromptu dry-hump where she’d come in my lap so hard, I’d nearly seen stars… Then the fight, the tears, the anger. Before, finally, our resolution. A promise of not right now but someday and spending the rest of the weekend getting lost in each other’s bodies.

I’d taken so much of it for granted. I’d been hungry for it and had gone after it like a ravenous wolf, but I hadn’t savored it. If I could go back now, I’d do so many things over. Starting with taking my time. Cataloging every inch of her. Spending an entire evening with my mouth between her legs just so the cadence of her moans would be trapped in my subconscious for the rest of my life.

“Hud,” she whispered, her tone a little worried and a lot breathy.

This was probably a bad idea. Actually, there was no probably about it. This was a terrible fucking idea. Our friendship had barely survived the last time we’d done this, and our ending was still the same—I was leaving in less than three weeks, and Kenna had made it perfectly clear she didn’t want a long-distance relationship with me.

Didn’t matter. I had no hope of stopping myself.

Even less when Kenna reached out, tucked her fingers into the front waistband of my jeans a mere centimeter from my throbbing cock, and tugged me the slightest bit toward her.

That was it. All bets were off.

Cupping her face in my hands, I leaned down, maintaining eye contact—waiting for her to say no while silently chanting a prayer she wouldn’t—until her lids fluttered closed a moment before I pressed my lips to hers.

She breathed out a sigh, and I was gone. I’d dreamed of that sigh. Had gotten off to it more times than I could count. And for years, I’d longed to hear it again.

I tightened the hand around her neck, holding her captive for my mouth, while I slid the other around and cupped her ass, tugging her up against me. I groaned when her body came in contact with my shaft, needing the pressure. Desperate to relieve the ache by sliding into the sweet heaven between her legs.

I swept my tongue into her mouth, inhaling her moan. Sucking it right into myself so I’d have it forever. She tasted like peaches and home, and I never ever wanted to leave this nirvana.

If I didn’t live another day, I’d die a happy man right then and there with Kenna wrapped up in my arms, her lips under mine and her moans a symphony in my ears.