Chapter 47
HART
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I SMOOTH A layer of chocolate frosting on the side of the cake.
“You’re a tease.” Jade taps her short, work-worn nails on the table.
Nails that have seen the soil and the long days of running a ranch and lodge. A woman who doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty.
I love that about her.
“Am I?” I smirk at her sitting across from me.
Her eyes narrow with playful accusation for not letting me help ice the cake.
“What happened to teamwork?” She leans forward, eyeing the spatula like she’s about to grab it.
“I know your first instinct was to dip your finger in the frosting.”
“You can’t blame me, it looks delicious.”
I shake my head. “You can’t fool me. I know what you planned to do with that icing.”
She brings her hands under her chin. “Do you, now?”
“We’re not having a honey repeat. I’m trying to save these bathrobes.”
Her lips press together, jutting out in a perfect, exaggerated pout. It’s the kind of pout that makes her look both sulky and cute.
“Imagine trying to clean the chocolate icing out of these white robes.” She reaches for the cake, but I swat her hand away. “Fine. I’ll let you have your frosting fantasy.”
I grunt and let the icing fall onto the top of the cake, thick and slow from the spatula.
“What would be your cleaning strategy for chocolate-smeared robes?” Her finger dives into the bowl of icing.
I press the knife into the frosting, smoothing it to the edges, having a hard time finding the words while knowing that finger is going back in the warmth of her mouth.
“I’d rinse it with cold water to keep it from setting,” she says, her tongue licking the tip of her finger, eyes paying no attention to me. “Then maybe dab it with some dish soap or baking soda if it’s really bad.” Her tongue runs up her finger.
Bloody fucking hell.
My fingers clench the handle.
“Or do you think white vinegar would work better?” Her finger disappears in her mouth, and I forget what the hell I’m supposed to be doing.
Is it hotter because she isn’t paying attention to me and is so utterly engrossed in the icing?
When her eyes land on me, all the teasing is gone, and she stares like she doesn’t realize she just made the simple act of eating icing more erotic than anything I’ve ever seen—and I have a long list to compare to.
“What?” The innocence on her face nearly undoes me.
“All good ideas,” I shoot out, before I dip her fingers in the icing and lick it off.
“But you’re making it more complicated than it needs to be.
” I drag the knife across the top of the cake.
“Start with a cold water rinse, and then treat the stain with a proper stain remover and let it sit for about ten minutes. After that, wash it gently on a warm, delicate cycle and air dry. No heat until you’re sure the stain’s gone. ” The words rush out of me.
When she says nothing, I glance at her.
She stares at me.
“That was hotter than I expected. If I were wearing underwear, they would be soaked.”
I choke.
She laughs.
And before she can say anything else, I grab the silk table runner I found in a cupboard and circle the table toward her.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes flick to the green material sliding through my fingers.
“Close your eyes.”
Her smile widens. She shifts in her seat to face me, closing her eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”
I chuckle.
“Get these robes dirty.”
“Woman, I ain’t doing any more laundry today. We have better things to do.”
Her hands find mine and linger as I loop the silk over her eyes and tie it behind her head.
“Like what?”
“That’s the surprise.”
“Are you going to feed me the cake?” Her fingers graze the fabric of the eye mask, and I catch her hands at her front.
I lean down, brushing my lips over hers. “My kinky little Jade.”
She smiles against my mouth. “You’re the only person who knows this side of me.”
Damn, if my body doesn’t resonate with that knowledge.
“Thank you for keeping my secret all these years. After all the stories I spread about you, and not once did you turn the tables on me.”
“Never.”
“You could have.”
“I would never.” I kiss her and then brush my lips against the curve of her ear. “Stay still. I don’t want you peeking.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar.” I tug her earlobe with my teeth and enjoy her gasp.
I step back and fetch the mismatched birthday candles I found in a drawer. I arrange them in the cake, and scrape the match head against the box. It lights hot and fast.
She inhales. “Are you lighting candles?”
“Maybe.”
“How romantic. This better not be a one-off? If you’re starting now, I expect romantic gestures for life”.
One by one, I light the candles, some of which are used, while others are new. “I’ll always treat you right, baby girl. Always.”
She shifts slightly in her seat, a soft sound escaping her lips. “You’re really dragging this out, aren’t you?”
I shoot her a grin, even if she can’t see it. “Just a bit of suspense.”
I set the cake in front of her, and then move behind her. “You ready?”
“Yes.” She sits up straighter.
I untied the blindfold slowly, brushing the fabric from her eyes. “Happy birthday,” I whisper in her ear.
Her eyes open, slowly adjusting before sweeping over the candles, cake, and the wrapped surprise I bought from the hardware store a couple of days ago.
For a moment, she doesn’t say a word, and then her gaze lands on me.
Her eyes shimmer, a mix of shock and quiet awe. Tears don’t fall, but they glow, catching the flicker of the candlelight.
“You remembered my birthday? After all these years.”
“I’d never forget.”
She rises and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her face against my shoulder. Not a quick hug, or a teasing one where her hands slip under my robe. This is a long, soul-deep embrace.
I run my fingers down her hair and kiss her head. “This new chapter feels like it’s made for us. I’m excited to see where it takes us.”
She leans back to peer up. “Me too.”
I kiss her, and then ask, “Cake?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” She turns to the table. “This looks amazing. And what’s this?”
Her fingers touch the gift I wrapped in newspaper. It was all I could find last minute, but next time I’ll make sure to wrap it correctly.
“Your surprise.”
She eyes the bag, skeptical but intrigued.
I chuckle. “Just open it.”
She peels off the newspaper. “You bought me a new clipboard.” She looks at it, then at me.
I see the surprise in her eyes turn to gratitude for a present most people wouldn’t think twice about.
“I did. I won’t forget the important stuff, Jade.” My voice is low. “Even the small things. Especially the small things with you.”
“I love it. Thank you.” She blows out a breath, and that protected voice of hers comes back. “I’m a mess.”
She lowers herself to the seat as she swipes under her eyes, and I wonder if a tear slipped past her strong barrier.
“You’re perfect.” I move back to my seat, pulling the chair closer to her. “Besides, I like seeing you like this, caught off guard and vulnerable. It’s cute.”
She rolls her eyes. “Cute?”
“Adorable.”
“Now I know you’re lying because I don’t do adorable. Ask anyone.”
“I beg to differ.” I sit, and our knees knock in the most wonderful way.
I slide the cake between us, and when she reaches for a fork, I catch it.
“You won’t need this.”
“Why not?”
“I’m going to feed you.”
Her lips part slightly, in a perfect circle I almost can’t resist, but I hold back.
“And you’re going to be adorable taking the food from me.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I can’t promise anything.”
I smile to myself, sliding the fork into the cake to ensure a perfect bite-sized piece. “I think you will.”
I hold it out to her, and she hesitates. For a quick moment. Long enough to question it. Long enough to stare at it like the enemy.
She’s used to being the strong one, the sharp one people don’t mess with. And I’ll bet no one’s ever called her adorable and meant it.
But I do. And I will continue until she starts to believe it. My Jade doesn’t have to soften for anyone else. Just me. And even then, only when she’s ready.
Her mouth opens.
I slide the cake in, my eyes staying on hers as she chews. The silence stretches, but it’s not awkward; it’s easy.
She swallows and smirks. “It’s good, but I’m still not adorable.”
I laugh, low and soft. “You have no idea.”
I shift closer until my leg grazes her inner thigh. I hold the fork out to her, and she leans in slowly, her eyes on mine the whole time.
Her lips wrap around the bite, and I swear I forget how to breathe. I let my free hand rest on her leg—light, but steady. Her skin’s warm beneath the fabric, and she doesn’t pull away.
She chews, swallows, and then hums like it’s the best thing she’s tasted all day. “Okay, fine. Maybe you are good at this.”
“Feeding you?”
“Being dangerously close to adorable.”
I laugh under my breath and lift another piece of cake to her. “Open.”
The fork grazes her lower lip, leaving a smear of frosting on it.
“Careful.” Her fingers brush the icing from her lip. “You’ll get cake on my robe.”
I watch her as she tastes each small bite I feed her. The way her eyes close for a second. The small, involuntary smile tugs the corner of her mouth. It’s not about the cake. It’s the way she lets her guard down—for me.
“Is it good?”
She purrs like she’s thinking it over. “It’s alright.”
“Liar—”
She licks a bit of frosting from her bottom lip, this time watching me and making sure I damn well want to be the one licking the frosting.
“I forget what I was going to say,” I mutter.
We both laugh, and the sound of it—hers mixed with mine—fills my soul.
“I still can’t believe you remembered my birthday.”
“I remember everything about you.”
“Everything?”
“You used to sit behind the gym during lunch because you’d rather read than talk to anyone.”
“Easy. Everyone knew that.”