“Well, I have a feeling this is going to be very interesting.” He grinned.
“And why is that?”
“Because every time you show up on my doorstep something interesting happens. Come in.” He stepped away from the threshold, holding the door wide and keeping Duke restrained by his side.
Beth walked past him, bringing with her that scent of baked goods that drove him out of his fucking mind. Today it was accompanied with something tart…
His dick twitched. He was going to need to take another shower, this one very, very cold.
Get it together, man.
He shut the front door before he let go of Duke. The dog trotted off after Beth, clearly more interested in her.
I get it, buddy. I get it.
Tripp followed, stepping into the kitchen as Beth set the pie on the counter. When her hands were free she moved her attention to Duke, who was sniffing around her.
“Hey, Duke.” She bent forward toward the dog, her blond hair falling from her shoulders. Her hands were on the dog’s head; she scratched his scalp before moving down to his neck and across his back.
Tripp pressed his hip against the counter as he watched them. “Well, that’s new. You two make up?”
Beth looked up, still giving her hands-on attention to Duke. “You could say that.”
“So what kind of pie did you make me?”
“Cherry.”
Cherries. That was what she smelled like. Sweet, tart cherries…and sugar…and vanilla…and goodness.
“And what’s the occasion?”
She gave Duke one last scratch before she straightened. “My nephew has been stealing your dog.”
Tripp pushed off the counter. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“You know all of those times Duke was in my backyard wreaking havoc?”
“They’re a little hard to forget.”
“Well, as it turns out, it was Grant letting Duke back there. Usually when you were asleep or not home.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes. So really every single problem that we’ve had since you moved in has been the fault of my kids. And every time I yelled at you”—she gestured to Tripp—“or complained about Duke”—she gestured to the dog—“or called either of you names”—she shifted on her feet, her gaze not leaving his—“I was totally and completely out of line. And I’m sorry. Really sorry. I told Grant he wasn’t allowed to take Duke anymore, and that he needs to apologize to you as well.”
“So is that what that is?” he asked, gesturing to the pie. “Apology Pie?”
“Yes.”
“And Apology Pie is cherry flavored?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “It was between that and Humble Pie.”
That had him laughing. “Which is?”
“Triple berry. I had raspberries and blueberries but no blackberries.”
“I like cherry. How did you figure out it wasn’t Duke’s fault?” he asked, more than slightly curious at this new turn of events.
“I came home early today. Grant was in the backyard with Duke reading him a book…and feeding him peanut butter.”
“So Grant is the peanut butter culprit?” Tripp couldn’t stop the disgusted grimace from taking over his face. His dislike of the stuff was really that strong.
“He sure is.” She frowned. “And he was feeding it to Duke straight from the jar that I use every day. Dipping the spoon in and letting him lick it clean before repeating the process.”
“So you’ve been sharing peanut butter with my dog?” He laughed; he couldn’t help it.
“You keep that up”—she pointed at his massive grin—“and I’m taking my Apology Pie back.” She made a move to grab it, but Tripp stepped in front of her, blocking her path. They were only inches apart and she had to look up to see his face.
Something shifted in her expression. Her eyes dilated and a flush of color darkened her cheeks. Apparently she wasn’t the only one affected by their proximity.
He moved just a little bit closer, his eyes holding hers. “You can’t take back pie, Beth. That’s a hard and fast rule.”
“You and these rules…I think you’re just making them up as you go.” Her voice had taken on a husky tone.
“Nope, it’s in the book, too.” He moved his hands to her waist and the second he touched her she inhaled unsteadily. “So is this how it’s going to work with this whole neighbor thing? You continually making me baked goods when something happens…or you wanting something?”
“Yes.” The word came across her lips on a whisper.
He moved his hands, one skimming across her hip and around to her back to pull her closer. She was flush up against him now and it was perfection.
Per-fucking-fection.
His other hand reached up and cradled the side of her face, his thumb skimming her cheek. “So, what? You need a favor and you make me a cobbler?”
“No.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “For favors you get fudge.”
“On what occasion do I get cake?” He lowered his head, skimming his nose across her jaw and moving lower.
“Birthdays.” And now she was touching him, too, her hands at his sides fisting in the fabric of his shirt.
“Well, in that case, mine is October nineteenth.”
“I’ll make sure to, uh, remember that.” She moved her head to the side, providing him greater access to just where he wanted to be.
He placed an open-mouth kiss on her neck, the taste of her skin so much better than he could’ve ever imagined. Another thing he couldn’t have come close to imagining? The sound of her needy little gasps filling his ears. He pulled back, moving his hand to the back of her head, his fingers spearing through her hair.
“How does this system work for other things?” he asked.
“What other things?” she asked breathlessly.
“What’s the trade-off for a kiss?”
She shook her head slightly, glancing at his mouth for just a second before she looked back up. “You can’t barter a kiss, Tripp.”
“You’re right. Kisses are meant to be stolen.”
“That in your rule book, too?”
“Sure is.” And with that his mouth covered hers.
Chapter Eight
Breaking All the Rules
Tripp knew within an instant that Beth Boone tasted better than anything he’d ever had in his mouth. There was no gentle coaxing necessary in the kiss. The second his lips were on hers, she opened for him, her tongue sliding against his.
And it wasn’t just her taste, either; she felt better than anything he’d ever touched…or had been touched by. Her hands were under his shirt, her bare palms moving across his abs. She flexed her fingers, her nails just biting into his skin.
Okay, so she liked it a little rough. He could work with that.
He repaid the slight sting she’d left on his lower belly by nipping at her bottom lip. Her answering moan sent him over the edge and just like that he had her pushed up against the counter. He gently tugged on her hair, getting her to tilt her head and allowing him to deepen the kiss.
It was a whole new experience kissing Beth, the shock to his system setting off a chain reaction in his body. His blood ran hotter, his heart beat faster, his skin felt over-sensitized…stretched too tight and tingling.
The feel of her against him—her mouth, her hands, the scent and taste of her—burned him. She burned him. Kissing this woman was like something he’d never known.
“Holy shit.” He pulled back, needing a full breath of air before his lungs exploded.
Beth’s head was cradled in his palm and he took in the full picture as he looked down into her face. Her blue eyes were dazed, blond hair wild, lips slightly swollen, breath coming in and out in uneven gasps.
So damn beautiful it was insane.
“What are you doing to me?” he asked, shaking his head.
But he didn’t give her a chance to answer before his mouth was on hers again—tongues tangling,
breaths mingling, need consuming.
Yeah, consuming was the right word, which was why it probably took both of them entirely by surprise when two dogs barking echoed around them. Tripp pulled his mouth away from Beth’s, keeping his hands firmly in place as he turned.
Duke and Frankie were already wrestling on the floor in front of Finn, who was standing in the living room. His eyebrows were raised in surprise at the scene before him. “I, uh, knocked…The door was open so I figured you were outside or something.”
“I was just leaving.” Beth pulled away from Tripp’s hold, her face and neck flushed. Whether it was more from the kissing or being caught he wasn’t entirely sure.
What he was sure about was that he really didn’t like the fact that she wasn’t under his hands anymore.
“You sure? I can just come back so you two can finish up.” Finn pointed to the door as he bit his bottom lip, trying and failing to hide the smirk that was making his mouth twitch.
“That’s not necessary.” Beth moved farther across the kitchen, putting distance between her and Tripp. “I’ll see you later. Enjoy the pie,” she said before she turned and practically ran down the hallway.
But that wasn’t how this was going to end.
“Give me a sec.” Tripp made to follow Beth before he turned quickly and looked at Finn. “And don’t eat my pie.”
* * *
Beth practically sprinted from Tripp’s house, her mind, heart, and pulse racing. Tripp Black had just kissed her…and she’d had absolutely no problem kissing him back. The instant his lips had touched hers she’d opened her mouth for him. Good gravy, if Finn hadn’t walked in there was no telling what else she would’ve opened for him.
Oh, that was a lie; she knew exactly what else she would’ve opened for him. She’d have let that man carry her off to any hard surface and spread her out. Let him do whatever the hell he wanted.
He’d had his hands on her, those big masculine calloused hands that had been gentle and demanding at the same time. It had been so long since she’d been touched by a man…but no one had ever touched her like that.
And she’d touched him back. Her palms still burned with the feel of his skin, and she balled her hands in an attempt to hold on to the sensation.
She was almost to the side door that led to the garage when the sound of her name had her turning around. Tripp was rounding the side of his house at a jog, a look of fierce determination on his face.
Her stomach started to somersault immediately.
What are you doing to me? Tripp had asked that question right before he’d started the second round of kissing that had been damn near close to destroying her.
No, the real question was, what was he doing to her?
“What the hell was that?” he asked when he was only a few feet away. “You just walk away?”
“Tripp, I—”
But that was all she got out before he pushed her up against the brick wall. “I wasn’t done kissing you.”
His mouth came down hard on hers, and just like before, she didn’t fight him one little bit. And why the hell would she?
He’d awakened a hunger in her that had been dormant for way too long, a hunger that in that moment was stronger than it had ever been. Maybe it was stronger because it was shared—the man seemed pretty hell bent on devouring her.
She had her hands in his hair this time; she hadn’t reached that high before as she’d gotten distracted by touching his body. The strands were soft and damp between her fingers. He must’ve just showered; the scent of soap on his skin strong.
“God,” he groaned as he trailed his lips down her neck. “If I’d known this was what kissing you was like, we could’ve saved ourselves a lot of arguments.”
“Is that right?”
“You wouldn’t have been able to yell at me if your mouth had been occupied with mine.”
“But then you wouldn’t have gotten cookies…or pie,” she countered as his lips started to make the return journey up her throat and across her jaw.
“I’d rather have your mouth.” And just like that he was kissing her again, his tongue stroking against hers and taking control.
When Tripp pulled back from her a minute—or five—later, Beth was slow to open her eyes, taking more than a second to focus on him.
“Consider everything forgiven.” He brushed his lips against hers, the scruff of his beard just rasping against her cheek as he moved his mouth up to her ear. “And Beth?”
“Hmmm?” she hummed, unable to say any actual words.
“I’m still not done kissing you.” With that he stepped back from her and walked away.
She stood there, unable to pull her gaze from him as he disappeared around the side of the house.
Holy fuck. Did that really just happen?
Yes, yes it had. Tripp had kissed the ever living daylights out of her. He’d thoroughly decimated her brain…which was probably why her back was still fused to the brick wall and she hadn’t moved at all.
She’d go inside just as soon as she remembered how to walk again…whenever that was.
* * *
I’m still not done kissing you.
Those words played on repeat in Beth’s head as she added the eggs one at a time to the cookie batter churning in the Kitchen Aid mixer. The whir of the motor was no match for the low rumble of Tripp’s voice echoing around in her brain. That sentence was still making her a little bit weak in the knees…and more than a little damp between her thighs.
Good Lord, that kiss…kisses, actually, so many kisses that had blown her freaking mind. Each one better than the next. She’d never been kissed like that before, where her entire body was part of it, everything down to her very core.
It scared the shit out of her. This was the very thing she’d told herself not to go for. The very thing she knew she couldn’t have. A fact that was so beyond clear.
Wasn’t it?
It had to be…Tripp had made her lose her freaking mind…and every single one of her inhibitions. Well, at least that was clear. Very clear: as she’d plastered herself against the very solid length of him and kissed him back, her inhibitions had been long gone.
She wiped her hands on her apron before she grabbed the glass of wine from the kitchen counter. Glass to her lips she tipped her head back, finishing off the chilled chardonnay in seconds.
It had only been about thirty minutes since Tripp had left her pushed up against the side of the house and she’d already downed a glass of wine. And Beth’s glasses weren’t measured like they would be at a restaurant or bar. Not that the glass is twenty-five percent full nonsense. No, she filled that sucker up to the very top.
She was going to have to get a refill in a second, just as soon as she finished adding the vanilla to the batter.
Now, Beth having a little more to drink this evening was okay for a number of reasons. One: she had an empty house. The kids were spending the weekend with Papa Wallace. Two: she was more than capable of a little tipsy baking.
She’d made her mother’s chocolate chip cookies so many times she could do so blindfolded and with one arm tied behind her back. They were going to turn out just fine. Good thing, too, as they were going to be sold the following day at the Mirabelle High School Baked Goods booth.
The town of Mirabelle never ran short on community gatherings. There was at least one festival, function, or celebration every month. The biggest and most successful were the Summer Seafood Festival, the Fall Festival, the Holiday Lights on the Harbor, and that weekend’s event, the Spring Fling.
When Mel had asked Beth to help out and bake something, Beth hadn’t even hesitated to say yes.
Speaking of Mel, she was going to be coming over soon with a couple of their other friends. Which was perfect as Beth needed to discuss what had happened…pronto.
As if thinking about them had made it so, Beth’s cell phone rang on the counter behind her. Mel’s number flashed on the screen. She turned the mixer off before swiping h
er finger across the screen to answer.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Mel’s voice filled the speaker. “On the way.”
“Perfect. I’ve already polished off half the bottle of wine I had in the fridge.”
Mel laughed. “There a reason you’re getting liquored up before we get there?”
“Tripp kissed me.” Even saying it out loud didn’t make it feel true.
There was a beat of silence and then Mel said, “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Mel was actually standing on the front porch in less than ten, and she wasn’t alone. Grace Anderson, Hannah Shepherd, and Harper James were standing there, too.
Grace and Harper were two of Beth’s longstanding friends, going back about two decades just like Mel. Hannah, however, was a New York transplant who’d moved down two years ago. All three of them were married with children and were just as eager for a girls’ night as Beth was.
There was only one person missing from that night’s festivities, but their friend Paige was currently on a two-week trip in Italy with her husband, Brendan. Beth had no doubt the woman was having a grand old time.
“We brought reinforcements,” Mel said as they all made their way inside.
“We saw the Bat Signal.” Grace held up a bottle of wine in each hand.
“And by that she means the glowing light of an empty wineglass in the sky,” Harper added.
Hannah held up a bottle of wine, too. “We knew we were needed.”
“Oh, bless you.” Beth held the door open wide for them all to pass through.
“We were told you had something good for us, but weren’t told what,” Grace said as they headed to the kitchen.
“I need to pour the wine first.”
“Oh, it’s that good?” Hannah asked.
“Well, get to pouring!” Harper demanded as she and Hannah took seats on the barstools at the kitchen island.
Mel sat on the other side of Hannah while Grace went over to inspect the cookie-making area. Beth had kept busy as she’d waited for her friends to get there, she’d finished mixing all of her dough and put the first batch in the oven. The kitchen was already filling up with the scent of baking cookies.
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