Must Love Frosting

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  She laughed and lightly backhanded his chest, relieved for the levity. “I’m not sure I like that nickname, Ace.”

  He propped his head up on his elbow, amber gaze narrowed. “What’d Roxanna tell you?”

  “You tell me and I’ll let you know if it matches.”

  “I’m not falling for that one.” He dropped a kiss on her lips before pushing up to walk toward the open door of his master bath.

  “You aren’t going to tell me?”

  “Nope.”

  He wasn’t the least bit self-conscious of his naked body, and she rolled on her side, unashamedly enjoying every step until he was out of sight.

  In the following moment of silence by herself, she realized she wanted to stay when he got back.

  She never wanted to stay.

  Her heart started pounding, and her breath shortened. She shouldn’t want to stay now, either. Swallowing hard against the sudden flip-flop of her stomach, she cast a quick glance at the bedside clock while getting up to search for her clothes.

  She found her bra and leggings, and then her underwear, which she quickly slid back on. Recalling her T-shirt was out on the living room floor, she scooped up Asher’s dark green shirt. After she shoved her arms into the sleeves, she crisscrossed the open sides over her chest and was heading toward the hall when his voice came from the bathroom door.

  “You’re leaving?”

  She jerked to a stop at the door, bra and leggings clutched in her hand, heart still hammering in her chest. Guilt flushed her cheeks as she stumbled over her words. “I, um, I was just going to…grab my T-shirt.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then walked across the bedroom to swipe up his briefs. Seeing him still semi-hard made her want him all over again, even after he pulled the underwear on. Suddenly she didn’t want to leave anymore, but wasn’t sure what to do.

  He shoved aside the covers and bent one leg as he sat on the bed. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, Honor, but I’d rather you didn’t sneak out.”

  “Hard to sneak out when you know where I live.” The joke earned her a smile, but it faded fast. “If I stay, what would the neighbors think if they saw me in the morning?”

  “This neighbor wouldn’t mind in the least. He’d even make you breakfast.” He looked over his shoulder at the clock. “In a couple hours.”

  Honor hesitated as she took him in, sitting there on the bed. Rumpled hair, sexy scruff, gorgeous eyes, generous lover. Her heart said stay. Her mind still said run.

  “You’ve been here a lot longer than me. You don’t care what your neighbors think?”

  “Only the one that lives across the street.”

  Slow footsteps carried her back to him, and she dropped her clothes on the floor beside the bed. “I guess I’ll get my shirt later, then.”

  This time, his smile stayed. He reached out to grab the edges of his shirt and tugged her closer. She rested her hands on his shoulders, then her breath caught as he slowly parted the material and slid his hands up to cup her breasts, his expression reverent. When he leaned forward to suck the tip of one in his mouth, his whiskers scraped against her skin. Her knees went a bit weak as she recalled the feel of that scruff against her inner thigh.

  “Fair warning.” His amber gaze met hers as he flicked her nipple with his tongue. “Breakfast is going to be more like brunch.”

  Honor twined her fingers in his hair and let her head loll back. “I’m good with brunch.”

  Chapter 24

  After a quick shower to avoid looking like sex warmed over on her walk across the street, Honor paused in the bedroom doorway for one last lingering look at Asher sprawled in the rumpled sheets. It had been almost five a.m. when he’d returned from tossing the condom the second time, and they’d both fallen asleep the moment he slid beneath the covers and snuggled against her side.

  It was almost ten-thirty now, and she figured she’d let him sleep a bit longer before having to face the upheaval in his life again. Out in the living room, she carried the platter of partially eaten cake from the coffee table to the kitchen, considering the bombshell of discovering a half-brother you never knew existed.

  Had Grayson Cole known? Or had his mother kept a whole loving family secret from him, too? Either possibility was downright shitty.

  Would Asher’s parents make it through this? Having celebrated thirty-five years together, even she had to say, it would be a shame if they didn’t. Seeing the whole family together the evening of the anniversary party, it was clear they were close. She hoped they worked it out and weathered the scandal for Asher’s sake—and his brothers and sisters.

  After covering the cake, she smothered a tired yawn, located his coffee, and started a pot to brew. While waiting, she couldn’t help replaying bits and pieces of them together, only a few short hours ago. The more she thought about everything, the more her heart and her mind struggled over the awesomeness/folly of her decision to stay.

  The sex was great—lust she could reconcile with her mind. But wanting to stay and just be near him—that was her heart talking all the way. She needed to keep it purely physical, but how in the world was she supposed to do that when she liked him more than she’d ever liked anyone?

  Her head was starting to hurt when she spotted a loaf of bread on his counter. Seizing the distraction, she checked the refrigerator to confirm he had milk and eggs, then whipped up a large batch of French toast while mentally prioritizing her upcoming week.

  One cake had to be delivered Saturday, the other on Sunday morning, but both had a ton of elaborate add-ons, so she needed to start the detail work ahead of time before baking on Wednesday and Thursday. There was enough to do that she could even start tonight, despite the fact it was supposed to be her day off.

  Lifting her coffee mug for a sip, she flipped the last slice of bread in the pan. The scuff of footsteps from behind alerted her Asher was up, but before she could turn, his arms slid around her waist. He pressed his warm lips to her neck, his scruff-covered chin scraping her skin. She tilted her head, giving him better access as his solid heat at her back woke every cell in her body in a way coffee never could.

  “Good morning.” He sucked in a deep inhale against her neck. “Something smells good.”

  “That’s the French toast.”

  “No, it’s you,” he murmured. “But what’s the deal here? I was supposed to make you breakfast.”

  Her first instinct was to tell him he could make breakfast next time. Instead, she checked herself and lifted the shoulder his chin wasn’t resting on. “I was up.”

  His hips nudged her backside. “So am I.”

  “I noticed,” she said with a smile. It was a heady feeling knowing how much he wanted her.

  When he lifted a hand to turn her head so he could cover her mouth with his, she blindly set her mug on the counter, then spun around and wrapped an arm around his neck to lose herself in his kiss.

  Mmm. He smelled all male while tasting minty fresh. Better yet, he was hard and warm and mostly naked in his black boxer briefs.

  His touch roamed up and down her back, pressing her close as if he couldn’t get enough of her even though he’d had her not that long ago. One hand palmed her ass and tugged her hips tight against his erection.

  Her body throbbed in anticipation as she nipped at his bottom lip. “You’re insatiable.”

  “I told you, I can never have enough cake.”

  “Oh, is that what you’re calling it now?”

  His other hand rose, cupping the back of her neck while his thumb brushed her face in that way that made her feel so special. “You are the cake, Honor. Not sex.”

  “I thought I was frosting?”

  “You’re that, too. Basically, you’re anything and everything that’s good.”

  Her heart thumped hard at the warm look in his eyes. A girl could get used to this.

  But what happens when I get used to it and then it’s gone?

  She stiffened in his arms a se
cond before a knock sounded at the front door. His hold eased, a frown drawing his dark brows down as his gaze held hers for a heart-stopping moment before shifting toward the sound. Honor pulled her arm down from around his neck and turned back to the stove.

  “Um…you’re going to need to get that,” he said.

  She half-turned toward him. “It’s your house.”

  “Well, if I go, whoever it is will think I’m really happy to see them.”

  Honor glanced down, then couldn’t help a grin when she saw his briefs left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Okay, yeah, she probably should answer his door for him.

  She reached to set the spatula on the counter when another light knock sounded as the door opened.

  “Asher? You home?”

  Roxanna’s concerned voice was only one second ahead of the brunette rounding the corner into the kitchen. She pulled up short when she saw both of them by the stove.

  “Oh. Hi.”

  “Hi,” they said at the same time.

  Her gaze bounced from Asher, to Honor, and back again. Then her eyes widened, and she held up a hand while turning her head. “Geez Louise, Ace. Put that thing away.”

  Honor smothered an amused snort at the reaction.

  Asher crossed his arms over his bare chest and widened his stance. “You’re the one who walked in uninvited.”

  “I knocked. Twice. And if you’d answered your texts, I wouldn’t have had to come over to make sure you’re okay.” Her profile turned pink as she added, “Although, I can see now why you didn’t bother with your texts.”

  “Yeah, pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

  “Too obvious. Go put some damn pants on.”

  He didn’t speak for a long moment, then finally huffed out an annoyed breath and strode toward his bedroom.

  “Take a cold shower while you’re at it,” the psychic called after his back.

  “Or you could just leave,” he hollered back before the bedroom door slammed.

  Honor watched Roxanna’s grin fade in the awkward silence that fell when it was just the two of them in the kitchen. They had come to tolerate each other over the past week or so. Their last exchange when she’d dropped off cupcakes had bordered on friendly. Barely.

  She gestured to the platter of food and plates on the island. “There’s plenty of French toast if you want some?”

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Too late.” She tempered the words with a wry smile.

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  The tall brunette contradicted the words by grabbing herself a third plate and fork—from the correct cupboard and drawer, without having to search for the items like Honor had. Witnessing her familiarity with Asher’s home and realizing she must have a key to have opened the front door sparked a twinge of jealousy.

  “I get his mail and keep an eye on the house when he’s gone for work, that’s all. I told you, he’s like a brother to me. Yeah, he’s hot, but no way do I want to ogle him in his briefs.”

  The reply stood the hairs of her arm on end as she shot Roxanna a glance, but the woman’s head was hidden behind the pantry door. She emerged with syrup and powdered sugar and casually set them next to the plate of French toast, as if answering someone’s private thoughts was perfectly normal.

  Then she darted a furtive glance toward the living room before leaning on the counter to ask, “How’s he doing?”

  Still somewhat unnerved, Honor arched her eyebrows. “Seems like you should already know that.”

  A smile curved her lips. “That last thing was a woman thing, not a psychic thing. If I spent the night with a guy and his female friend just walked right in, I’d want to know why she had a key, too.”

  That made sense—though, she could’ve totally used it to shore up her psychic claims instead of giving Honor ammunition against them by confirming it was a lucky guess.

  “I don’t have to prove myself to anyone.” Roxanna faced her and held out a plate, inviting her to eat even though Honor had done the cooking. “You’re either open to believing, or you’re not. You get to decide that, not me or anyone else. Only you.”

  Her pulse stuttered as she stepped forward to take the plate. Not only had Roxanna correctly guessed her thoughts again, but she got the impression the woman was referring to more than belief in her uncanny abilities.

  “The thing is,” Roxanna continued, “this is really huge. I don’t know how he’s playing it, but I do know he went to his parents’ house last night after the news broke, so I stopped to make sure he’s doing okay.”

  “He was upset when he got back last night,” Honor admitted, her chest tightening with the memory of his anger and confusion. “He didn’t want to talk about it much, though I don’t think he knows a lot of details yet, either. Then again, even if he did tell me anything, it’s not my place to repeat it.”

  The other woman looked up from her plate, a glimmer of respect in her brown eyes. “Right. Of course. Thanks. I’m glad you were here for him.”

  There was no resentment in her words, only genuine gratitude that Honor had helped her best friend.

  Okay. So maybe she could be friends with the psychic, too.

  She nodded to Roxanna and selected a slice of French toast as Asher rejoined them. The smile he gave her warmed his eyes before he headed for the coffee pot to pour a cup. Breakfast forgotten, her mouth watered as she raked her gaze from the top of his damp hair to his bare feet, appreciating his snug, black T-shirt, and a pair of faded jeans worn and ripped in all the right places.

  She was glad she’d been here for him, too. Glad he’d wanted her here.

  But how long will that last?

  The question hit hard, undermining her happiness after the night they’d shared. The warning thoughts were coming more often now. And with Roxanna’s comment about how big this whole situation was for Asher and his family, she needed to seriously consider…how long before she became an afterthought for him?

  Relationships didn’t last. She was well aware of that fact, and letting herself even hope for anything different was opening herself up for heartache.

  She snuck a glance at Asher from beneath her lashes and caught him watching her over the rim of his coffee cup, his expression pensive. Was she the reason for that serious look? Did he still want more than sex, or was he realizing that this could get too complicated? Was she reading too much into his somber expression, or did he sense her inner turmoil?

  Maybe the brooding had nothing to do with her at all. Could be he was thinking of his family.

  Of course he’s thinking about his family! And she was being a complete idiot obsessing over something so little.

  Stop over-thinking things!

  Tossing him a quick smile, she ducked her head to concentrate on her plate. But then, while cutting up the slice of French toast into bite size pieces, she realized her problem.

  She was looking at him different than any other man she’d dated. What she needed to do was simply let go of her uncertainty and enjoy each moment solely for the moment. Enjoy him solely for him.

  Forget the future, because they didn’t have one.

  No qualms about hoping for more when she already knew it wasn’t going to happen.

  When it was over, it would be over, and as long as she kept that front and center in her mind, she’d have nothing to worry about.

  Other than the fact her silent little pep talk made her want to cry.

  Chapter 25

  Asher couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t right. Rox’s arrival may have provided Honor with a convenient cover, but he’d felt her pull away before the knock. And while he’d been thrilled by her eager perusal when he returned to the kitchen, he still sensed her pulling away.

  Maybe it was the family bomb that dropped last night. He didn’t even want to have to deal with it, so was it fair to expect her to? Probably not. But he didn’t like the idea of her putting distance between them after last night. Especially not after he’d had to
convince her to stay.

  One night down, a lifetime to go.

  He carried his coffee over to the island to dish up a couple slices of the delicious smelling French toast and caught Roxanna’s smirk from where she sat on an island stool next to Honor.

  “That was a quick shower, Ace.”

  “Cold ones always are,” he shot back.

  The moment the words were out of his mouth, he felt like his face slammed into the mountain all over again. Was Honor creating distance between them because of his friendship with Roxanna? Did their closeness bother her? He wasn’t used to filtering their exchanges.

  No, hold up. She’d pulled away before they knew it was Rox at the door. And, right now, her humor-filled gaze transferred from him to his best friend.

  She certainly didn’t seem upset as she leaned forward to ask, “He won’t tell me why you call him Ace.”

  “It’s really not that big a deal,” he said.

  Rox laughed, her brown gaze twinkling. “It isn’t. He just sucks at poker and doesn’t like to be reminded that I took him to the cleaners the night we met back in college. I gave him the nickname so he’d never forget.”

  Asher grimaced while pouring syrup over his food. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know I was playing with a psychic.”

  “I read people, not cards,” she defended, syrup dripping from her raised fork. “It’s not my fault you have numerous tells.”

  “Ooh, do tell,” Honor joked.

  She took a breath to speak, but Asher fixed her with a glare. “Rox.”

  Lucky for her, she ate her food and kept her grinning mouth shut. Finally, he stabbed a chunk of his French toast. “Shouldn’t you be at the store?”

  “Tessa’s covering for me today.”

  “Oh.” He raised a bite, but another knock from the front door jerked his head around. Plunking down his fork, he got up from his seat with a muttered, “Of all the mornings. It’s like Grand-frickin’-Central here today.”