Passion in Bloom (Hometown Heartstrings #2)

Chapter 22

Roarke

H eather let me have the spare key to her cabin since she said she’d be at the bank sort of later than usual. It felt strange to let myself into her place without her there. She’d shown me how much she valued her privacy that it still felt like trespassing. Even though she gave me her key and the permission to stay there, I was careful not to mess with her things. Snooping didn’t enter my mind. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t snoop for clues about her past if I wanted to start this relationship with her on a good note. A lasting commitment couldn’t be founded in lies and lack of trust.

Trust was a slow going with her, but I was confident she would continue to open up to me and make herself more available to me emotionally the longer we did this at her pace.

I doubted she had anything of a valuable clue tucked away. She didn’t have many things here, not a materialistic hoarder of things .

Still, after I showered away the grime of the day’s work and then considered the options in her small kitchenette, I wanted to make this feel like a home for the night.

She didn’t stock too many things in her kitchenette, perhaps because she didn’t have enough room to store many staples, but I wanted to make her dinner. Once the idea got into my head, I couldn’t shake it off. So, I got my boots and coat back on and headed to the food mart. Grabbing the basics for a simple dinner that I felt I wouldn’t screw up, I wondered how she’d react.

If this would be taken as a bold move. If she’d be intimidated by my good gesture and worry that I was “butting in” or taking too many liberties.

Hell. I need to eat too.

Since I’m staying there, I’m making myself dinner. And making sure there is enough for her too.

That would be a loophole out of any concerns she might have about my overstepping or anything like that.

A couple of hours later, I doubted myself. Smoke seemed to rise too quickly from the stove, and I wasn’t sure if I added enough seasoning to the sauce. Spaghetti wasn’t that fancy of a meal, but I didn’t want it to be completely bland.

Before I got any more lost and worried that I was botching it all with my rudimentary cooking skills, she came home.

“Something smells...um...” She scrunched her face, crinkling her nose as she shut the front door.

“Good? Please say something smells good.” I turned back to the stove. How damn hard is it to brown meat?

“It doesn’t smell bad ,” she said, approaching me after she slung her coat over the back of the chair I sat in that one memorable afternoon here.

“That’s a start.”

She leaned around me, wrapping her arms in a loose circle over my sides. “I think you’re supposed to use more oil in the pan though.”

I grabbed the bottle of olive oil. “You think ?”

She nodded, resting her cheek on my arm. “I won’t claim to know .”

I laughed, loving that she was just as mildly clueless as I was. “Not a cook?”

“No. I mean, I can be, I guess, but I like to order out or just make eggs. Simple stuff.”

“Me too.”

She laughed once. “Then what’s all this?”

“This,” I said as I reached for the dials to turn the burners off, realizing the meat was definitely too burned to taste good now, “was my attempt at making dinner for us.”

“Hmmm. Cute.” She slipped around me, turning the burners back on to salvage it with more oil and shoving the meat around. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” I said as I took her previous spot. Taller than her, I could stand behind her with my arms wrapped around her, her back to my chest. As she tried to pick up where I’d given up on the food, I nuzzled the side of her neck. “I was thinking that I could welcome you home from a long day of work with a nice meal to relax to.”

“It sounds nice...”

I laughed, leaning in to kiss lower down her neck, toward her shoulder. “Is that something like saying it’s the thought that counts?”

“The thought always counts,” she teased right back, reaching for the pot of noodles that were stuck and congealed in a mess on the bottom.

“Was it a long day at work?” I asked, loving how domestic this was. How close we were in the kitchen, acting like a couple who cohabited and didn’t get on each other’s nerves.

It was swift. It had happened quickly. But it seemed to be us .

“It was, uh, interesting,” she said, sounding more serious than I wanted her to be here with me. I wanted her relaxed. I wished she could let loose and just be, that I could make it so she’d feel comfortable to lower her guard because I was here to protect her and support her however she needed or wanted.

“But you’re home now,” I reminded her.

“I’m not sure this cabin is really home ,” she admitted.

“Because it’s too small?”

She slanted her head to the side even further, closer her eyes as I sucked on her earlobe.

“Why are you doing this month to month rent?” I asked. “Because you don’t plan to stay here for long?”

She hummed in satisfaction as I lifted one hand to cup her breast and the other to push her back to me.

“No. I didn’t come to town planning to rent one of these cabins at all. I was supposed to move into one of those apartments.”

“Then why not consider finding something bigger and more permanent?” I asked her.

She turned the burners off, backing into me further as she lifted her hand to hold the back of my head. Encouraged with her retreating from the stove, I unbuttoned her pants then slid my hand under the fabric.

Her breath hitched as she turned her head to kiss me fully.

“Are you trying to rub your house-hunting mentality off on me now?” she joked, spinning into my arms to face me fully. As she moved, she tugged at my shirt.

“I’ll rub something on you,” I taunted, kissing her harder until she moaned. Together, we backed toward the bed. In this manner, an open-floor plan of a studio was a great benefit to rely on.

No doors to open. No rooms to maneuver through.

“You’re on the market to rent or buy something and you’re going to think I want to too?” she said once I pulled my shirt off and worked on the buttons to hers.

“Think of all the new rooms you could try to christen,” I murmured close to her mouth.

Her cheeks rose in a smile as we kissed. The touch of her tongue alongside mine, the firm brush of her wet, soft lips over mine, and I was a goner. I hurried to lower my sweats and boxers.

“I don’t have any rooms here,” she said.

“The bathroom.”

“And like I told you last night, that tiny thing is way too small for shower sex,” she replied.

“Then this will have to do.” We hadn’t moved far enough from her kitchenette to reach her bed. Stopping at her high-top table would be just fine for me.

Shoving at her pants, I encouraged her to step out of them. She did so, holding on to me as I hooked my fingers into the band of her panties and lowered them, too. On the upward caress of my hands, I rubbed her thighs, then stroked my fingertips over her pussy as she stepped apart slightly.

Before she could lean into me and give me a chance to play with her, I spun her until her ass was thrust out at me. I growled, hugging her until her back was flush to my chest.

She gyrated against me, humping my dick jutting out at her.

“Did you get con—”

Condoms!

I froze. “Dammit!” I let my head fall to her shoulder as she giggled.

Turning slightly to kiss me, she guided my hand to her pussy, prompting me to finger her. “I take that as a no?” she asked between kisses.

“No,” I replied. “I forgot.”

“I’m...I’m clean,” she admitted carefully. “After I left David, I wanted to get checked.”

Because you thought he could’ve given you something? As if I needed to hate the man any more.

“I’m clean too. Been months, and no one since I had my last physical.”

She rubbed her ass up to my dick, implying what I wanted to think she was.

“You want to...?”

“I want to.” She leaned forward, putting her hands on the edge of the table. That luscious ass was presented to me as she stepped apart, enticing me to plunge into her. “I want you to fill me,” she said, looking back at me with such a sultry look I growled as I reached for her hips.

“Like this?” I asked, lining up my dick to her wet hole.

I pushed in, relishing the squeeze of her sucking the head in. Slick and warm, she fit me like a glove.

“Oh, yeah,” she moaned. “More. Fill me, Roarke. Fill me with that—”

I slid in further, pushing into her pussy as I pulled her by the hips until we were flush.

Her taunting, needy words were lost. A sharp gasp replaced them. Then a long moan of satisfaction.

“Yeah, that. Oh, fuck. That feels so good.” She pushed back to me, almost rising to her tiptoes.

I smoothed my hands over the globes of her ass, staring at where we were joined.

It did feel good. She felt good. And I intended to make sure we enjoyed each other for as long as we could.