Chapter 21
Cinnamon and freshly baked bread fill my nostrils as I wake slowly from a deep sleep. Muted bass thumps rhythmically in the distance. I pick my head up off my pillow and squint into a sun flare peeking through my window.
What time is it?
Audrey isn’t next to me. Her side of the bed is cool to the touch. She must’ve woken up way before me. I sit up and swing my legs over the edge, checking my phone on the nightstand. 11:00 a.m. Damn. I haven’t slept past 6:30 since high school. I scrub a hand over my face, pausing for a moment to note a faint melody floating in from the kitchen.
I find my briefs at the end of the bed and slip them on. The sound of Audrey’s singing becomes more clear the closer I inch toward the door. I press my ear against the frame and grin at the thought that I’m about to walk into something very entertaining.
Not wanting to draw her attention, I slowly open the door and peer through the crack, giving me a perfect view of Audrey bending over to take something out of the oven.
Her hair is down and undone from sex and sleep. The sunlight reflects off her silky strawberry locks. She’s wearing my t-shirt that rides up as she’s bent over, exposing her delectable peach-shaped ass. Her hot pink panties contrast against her fair skin, making my dick to stand to attention. I adjust it in my briefs as I open the door all the way and tiptoe into the living room.
She hasn’t noticed me yet. Music is blaring from a bluetooth speaker. She’s icing cinnamon rolls on a tray with a butter knife and singing at the top of her lungs to some pop song. Her hips sway back and forth to the beat. Light radiates from every part of her body, as if she were plugged into the sun itself.
I’m happy to see her in a better mood after last night. When we made love, I swallowed every doubt she had and took on her burdens as my own. We were so deeply connected that I felt every emotion as our bodies moved together in sync. But her fear was real, and we could be facing something dangerous.
I knew Kellan was out there on the loose. If someone truly had been following her in Oakwood Valley, then we have a huge problem. We can’t avoid the topic forever.
I stalk toward her, trying to stay out of her line of sight while she seductively ices the cinnamon rolls. Is that even possible? Every movement she does turns me on. I duck behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, kissing her neck as she jolts and drops the knife on the kitchen island.
“Oh, my god! Baby! You scared the shit out of me!” she squeals. I chuckle into her neck, the smell of sugar and cinnamon dusted on her skin. Her arms rest on top of mine as she turns her head. I reach over and turn down the music.
“Morning, Mouse. Mmm, it smells amazing. Did you make these from scratch?” I arch my eyebrow. My eyes scan the kitchen; flour, sugar, and dirtied-up mixing bowls covering every surface. She continues icing while I hold her, pressing my erection into her lower back.
“Mmm, well hello there,” she says playfully, backing her ass into me. “And yes, I made them from scratch. Sorry for the mess.” She uses the butter knife to motion into the entire kitchen. I’ll happily wash the dishes every morning if it meant that she would cook for me looking like this.
For a long time, I was content coming home to no one. I had my solitude, other than the odd nights my brothers would stay over when they’d be too drunk to move. But having Audrey here, covered in sugar and flour while singing and dancing in my kitchen, was something—I realize, holding her in my arms as if she’d been there every day for the last ten years—I can’t live without.
This house feels like a home with her warmth. The sun shines brighter through the windows. The kitchen appliances have purpose. Her lipstick stains the wine glasses, reminding me I’m not alone anymore.
“You seem happy this morning, Mouse.”
The corner of her mouth perks up as she mixes. “I feel better. I think middle-of-the-night orgasms will do that for ya,” she teases. There’s a hint of worry in her eyes, and I instinctively hold her tighter, my chin resting in the crook of her neck.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I say softly. She stops mixing and takes a beat to set the knife down on the counter. She turns around to face me, her hands rest on my chest and the worry in her gaze deepens.
“I guess we should, huh?” she says, unsure, shrugging her shoulders.
“Only if you want to, Mouse. But if you’re sure that you were being followed, we need to make a plan,” I say, stern but soft. Her eyes dart around the room, settling everywhere but in my gaze. Her jaw ticks as she grinds her molars, her chest heaving with breaths that deepen with every inhale. Feeling her discomfort, I chime in to break the silence.
“You’re not alone in this. If you want, I can talk to Logan’s dad and?—”
Her head shakes back and forth as she puts her hand on my mouth to keep me from talking further. “Donovan, we don’t need the chief of police getting involved. I just got home. I don’t want the whole town to know about my past,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Please don’t talk to Chief Harper. Promise me?” she pleads in desperation, eyes wide and beseeching.
I want to tell her she’s wrong. That this town will have her back, no matter what. That the people who love her will protect her. But I don’t. She doesn’t need to hear this from me right now. I pull her into an embrace, hoping my actions can speak where my words fail.
“I promise,” I whisper, holding her close.
“I’m just paranoid,” she mumbles into my chest. “It’s probably nothing. I know I’m safe with you.” She looks up at me with a smile that makes my knees weak.
“I’ll always keep you safe,” I murmur. My voice is low, our lips barely touching.
Her hands slip behind my briefs and she grabs a handful of my ass. I waggle my brows and attack her neck with kisses. I nip her earlobe and playfully growl in her ear, ready to devour her right here in the kitchen.
She giggles and tries to shrug me off, and in one quick swoop I lift her up on the counter, settling myself between her legs. Before I can react, she scoops a dollop of icing with her fingers and spreads it across my face.
My mouth gapes open as she continues to spread sticky icing all over my nose and cheeks. Her mouth forms an O shape, her laugh is hearty and loud. Music to my ears. A sort of laugh-type scoff escapes me as I narrow my eyes at her. She has no idea the beast she’s about to unleash within me.
“Ohhh, Mouse. You better run,” I growl. She pushes more icing into my face as she ducks out from under my arms, sprinting into the living room. I’ve never seen her move so fast—it throws me off guard. “Shit!” I stammer, laughing as I grab a handful of icing myself, playfully chasing after her.
The couch separates us, her eyes wild and smiling.
“This seems familiar, doesn’t it, baby?” she teases.
My heart squeezes at the memory of us playing cat and mouse all those years ago. The adrenaline of the chase, of getting just close enough, only for her to run in the opposite direction. I loved every second. Just like I do now.
Her chest rises and falls with excitement. I look at the woman across from me and see the same girl I’ve always known. That glint in her eye that makes her eyes smile. The playfulness that emerges from her, challenging me unabashedly. The way I desire her, always wanting to get into the pretty head of hers to safeguard her dreams. The heat that builds in my loins just by looking at her. That’s my Audrey.
“Don’t you remember who won that night, Mouse?” I tease, running around in circles in the living room, chasing her laughter. She grabs a pillow from the couch, thinking it’s enough of a barrier between us.
“I let you win,” she taunts me while I calculate my next move.
“This isn’t the only sticky white stuff that I can paint your body with,” I growl. Her eyes widen at my comment and a devilish grin appears on her face.
“And I’m pretty sure I remember you liking the way I taste more than your icing,” I taunt her back to even the score. My cock twitches thinking about Audrey swallowing my cum. I’m fully hard now, my entire length poking through my briefs.
“You see what you do to me?” I stalk toward her, stroking my cock with my free hand while she watches. Her eyes are catlike as she licks her delicious lips, backing away from me slowly. She tosses the pillow to the side and pulls her shirt off over her head, rubbing her breasts with leftover icing in her hand.
I lick my lips and close the distance between us. I take the icing in my hand and gently rub it on her face. Our game turns playful into something else. I swipe her bottom lip with icing, slowly sticking my fingers in her mouth. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she slowly sucks.
“Tell me baby, whose sticky white stuff do you like better?” I grumble. She smiles and groans while sucking my fingers and kissing my fingertips.
“Mine,” she whispers, running past me into the kitchen.
I groan and huff out a chuckle, leaving me dumbfounded with my hands on my hips.
Her head falls back into a fit of laughter as she hides behind the kitchen island. I run after her, and to no surprise, she lets me catch her. Once again, she lets me win.
This woman, I swear.
I lift her back up on the kitchen island and suck the icing off of her nipples. She whimpers and holds my head to her chest, allowing me to devour each taut peak. I look up through half-mast eyes and kiss her on the mouth, tasting the sweetness of sugar that lingers deliciously on her tongue.
“I win,” I whisper against her lips.
“You win.”
We spend the morning sticky, standing around the kitchen island eating cinnamon rolls half naked. I wouldn’t want anything else than what we have right here.
“Baby, you gotta make these for the BB. I’ve already eaten half the pan.” She beams at my praise. It’s true though. These cinnamon rolls are the best I’ve ever tasted. Sip Savor makes some good ones, but Audrey’s are to die for. She’ll be booked solid just for the cinnamon rolls alone.
“That’s the plan. I’ve been perfecting this recipe for years,” she says with pride.
Just as I’m about to take another bite, my cell phone text tone pings from my room. “Be right back, I’m gonna check that,” I say, kissing Audrey’s sweet icing coated lips. “Mmm, I want more when I come back,” I growl, Audrey giggling at my advances.
I enter my room and swipe my phone from the bedside table to see my mother texting.
Mom
Hi sweetheart. How are you?
Donovan
Hey mom. I’m fine, just had breakfast with Audrey. What’s up?
Mom
Oh how lovely. Well, I know it’s been a while since you’ve come home for Sunday dinner….
Ah, this is a Sunday dinner text. My family has been doing Sunday dinner for as long as I can remember. Dad is pretty killer on the grill, whipping out perfect medium rare steaks like it’s his job. Mom would make this amazing spread of mouth-watering sides with fresh vegetables from her garden to round out the meal. And it was always a community affair. Logan and his family would join us most weeks growing up; the backyard football with my brothers and our dads was the stuff of legends. Those Sundays are some of the best memories I have.
But then James died, and Sunday dinners haven’t really been the same since. Grief took a seat at the table, replacing James’s bright smile and contagious energy.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, taking entirely too long to reply. Long enough where the three little dots appear on my screen from my mom.
Mom
Donovan, I promise your father will be on his best behavior.
I let out a half-hearted chuckle and shake my head, not surprised that my mom, once again, can read my mind.
My dad and I haven’t exactly addressed things between us yet since the funeral reception. I know I promised Wyatt I’d talk with him, but since Audrey came home, I haven’t had the chance. I don’t even know where to start. My heart feels blocked up at the thought. I’ve skipped out on more Sunday dinners than I’m proud of, and I know it hurts my mom and my brothers. I haven’t been wanting to be around my dad since he makes things so damn awkward.
We don’t talk, we don’t connect. It’s just…nothing. I can’t remember the last time my dad and I had a real conversation that wasn’t about work. Having a sit-down dinner with my him while bringing Audrey around for the first time doesn’t sound at all entertaining.
Another three dots.
Mom
Besides, we want to spend time with Audrey. It would be nice if you could share her instead of keeping her locked in your cabin for weeks on end.
Donovan
Alright, alright. You don’t have to guilt trip me, mom. We’ll go.
Mom
Really?! Wonderful. See you at 6 then. Love you, hun.
Donovan
Love you too, mom.
I place my phone back down on the side table, contemplating on the edge of the bed. Of course, I want my family to be around Audrey. I already know they’re gonna fall in love with her. Maybe this is the push I need to make things right with my dad. Turning my head slightly, I see Audrey’s petite frame through the door, elbows propped on the island, bending one of her knees. Sexy without even trying. If I’m gonna brave tonight with anyone, I’m glad it’s with her.
I head back into the kitchen and stand across from Audrey at the island, her face still smothered with icing.
“Who was that? Everything okay?” she asks, licking her fingers.
“It was my mom. Everything’s fine. Do you think you can make another batch of cinnamon rolls before six tonight, though?” I ask, resting my forearms on the counter while I watch Audrey’s tongue slide across her bottom lip. I don’t think there’s anything this woman can do that doesn’t turn me on.
Her shoulders shrug up and down as she tears off another piece and stuffs it into her mouth. “Yeah, I can. Why?” she mumbles, her mouth full of cinnamon roll. I huff out a chuckle at her puffy cheeks.
“Make a batch for Sunday dinner tonight,” I suggest. She arches her eyebrow in confusion. She looks cute with that perplexed look on her face and her cheeks full of food, like the most adorable chipmunk who got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. She swallows the rest of her cinnamon roll and tilts her head.
“What’s Sunday dinner?” she asks, downing a glass of water.
“My parents have hosted dinner every Sunday since I was a kid. My mom wants us to come.” Her eyes widen at my request. I chuckle, swiping the icing from the corner of her lip with my thumb and popping it in my mouth.
“Us?” she stammers, knitting her brows together.
“Yeah, us. My mom thinks I’m keeping you all to myself in here,” I tease, stalking slowly toward her. She stands her ground, not giving into my antics.
“Well, you kinda are, baby,” she retorts, wrapping her arms around my neck once I get close enough.
“Well, I don’t wanna share you with anyone,” I whisper huskily against her lips, getting a taste of sugar and cinnamon.
“Then don’t,” she whispers back, pulling me into a deep kiss. Jesus, this woman drives me crazy. Her tongue teases mine, giving me just enough and then pulling away, leaving me wanting more.
“So you’ll come?” I pant, restraining myself from taking her on this counter from that kiss. She waggles her brows, nibbling down on her bottom lip.
“I’ll come as much as you want me to,” she purrs, biting back a smile. I can’t resist the gleam in her eye when she teases me. A low groan rumbles within my chest.
“Mouse, careful what you ask for,” I warn, my hands raking over her tits. She moans into my touch, pushing herself against me, a light giggle on her lips.
“Yes, I’ll come tonight. To Sunday dinner, and on your face,” she whispers in my ear. I groan into her neck as her hands snake around my middle. She really knows how to rev my engine.
“Good. On both accounts.” I growl.
I stare into her sparkling green eyes and smile. Jokes and teasing aside, I love her. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all. Having Audrey with me can ease any tension in the room. Although, despite all the battles she’s won these last few weeks, she’s yet to face off with the man who put us here in the first place.