He gave a brief, jerky nod, unable to take his eyes off her smiling face.
“Is that for me?”
“What?” He glanced down and noticed he was still clutching the pale yellow rose he’d picked for her. “Yes,” he said, internally wincing at the brusque tone of his voice.
“The bud’s tight on this one,” she said, pulling off her oven mitts and taking the flower from him. She lifted it to her nose and closed her eyes, giving a slight groan of pleasure that made him tense with anticipation all over again. “Smells wonderful.”
“Yes,” he said again. He didn’t know what else to say. He was mesmerized by her.
As he watched, she lifted the rose and brushed the rosebud against her full lower lip. “Soft.”
His c**k jerked. The way she’d moved it against her lips made him think of yesterday. Oh, f**k.
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Ready for dinner?”
“I . . .” He couldn’t go anywhere. Not with this aching hard-on. Couldn’t sit with her and pretend that he wasn’t ready to spill in his pants. “No. I must go.”
And before she could protest, he walked out of the kitchen.
Like a f**king coward. A f**king coward who needed an ice-cold shower to get his c**k back under control.
***
Gretchen was getting frustrated.
She sighed and flopped down on the couch in the library, glaring up at the blue mural on the ceiling.
She’d thought their little interlude in the greenhouse would make him open up to her a bit more. Get him to bend a bit. She wanted more from him. Last night, she’d dreamed of kissing him for hours. Nothing else but just sitting in each other’s arms, exploring each other’s lips as if not a care in the world.
She wanted that. She wanted to kiss Hunter, and so much more.
But she hadn’t seen him for two days. She’d invited him to dinner and he’d declined. Was he done with her now that she’d gone down on him?
It didn’t make sense. Every instinct she had about men—and she’d dated around quite a bit during her college days—told her that Audrey had nailed it and he was a virgin. It explained his reactions perfectly, his wariness any time she came on to him.
And despite his virginity, he still wanted her. It was obvious in every look he sent her way.
So why was he avoiding her?
Maybe he was uncomfortable with approaching her and asking for more? Should she be bold and come right out with it? Put his hand on her breast and her hand on his c**k and say, “I want this”?
Sighing, she picked up another letter and skimmed it. “Good God, these two are horny little buggers,” she muttered to herself, reading yet another description of Ben licking at Lula’s perfect feminine petals. The letters had been arousing at first, but with her own frustrations in the relationship department, they just became excruciating. It was no fun to read about someone else having incredible sex when she couldn’t even get Hunter to kiss her.
She folded up a letter and tossed it aside. Hell, she needed to get Hunter in here to read some of these letters. Then maybe he’d be just as worked up as her.
Gretchen stared down at the folded letter on the table. That was it.
Perfect.
Get Hunter in here. Somehow get him to read a letter. Then, her reluctant virgin would be putty in her hands.
A wicked smile curved her mouth.
She penned a quick note and folded it, then rang the bell pull. Five minutes later, Eldon arrived.
He gave her a sour look. “What may I help you with?”
Gretchen held the note out to him. “Can you please give this to Hunter?”
Eldon looked down at the note. With a disapproving sniff, he took it in his hand. “More commentary about my cooking?”
“Nope. I’m inviting Hunter in for some research help.”
Eldon raised an eyebrow. “I am sure Mr. Buchanan would prefer not to be disturbed with such requests. If you need assistance, you are to go to me.”
Yick. The thought of having Eldon assist made her want to throw up her cookies. Thank god he had no idea what he’d just suggested. “No, I’m pretty sure he’d prefer to help me with this on his own. Anyhow, can you just give him the note?”
“Very well.” Man, she didn’t think one person could stuff that much disapproval in two words, but she was wrong.
Eldon disappeared down the hall and Gretchen watched the door, a bundle of nerves. After five minutes had passed and no one showed up, she began to feel silly. Of course he wouldn’t come the instant she summoned him. He could have been busy. She returned to the letters, pulling out a few that would be likely candidates for her seduction scenario, and began to type in the next letter in sequence.
There was a knock at the door some time later.
Gretchen looked up just as the door opened. Hunter stood there in the doorway, his frame poker-stiff as ever, his face inscrutable. He wore a dark navy dress shirt, the collar slightly open. His hair was damp, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower, the ends curling, and she wanted to touch it.
He cleared his throat and then focused his gaze in her direction—but not on her. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes. You won’t look at me.”
He looked startled at that, his gaze flying to her. “I—”
“It’s okay,” she interrupted, getting to her feet and picking up the stack of letters she’d set aside. “I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I just know that you always look away when you’re uneasy. You’ve been avoiding me since the greenhouse.”
He said nothing, but she watched the red rise in his cheeks.
“Look, Hunter, I apologize if my actions made you uncomfortable. I want us to be friends. We can still be friends, can’t we?” She forced herself to keep her expression as innocent as possible.
“Friends,” he bit out after a long moment. “Of course.”
“Great. I thought I’d ask you, friend to friend, if you could help me with my project a little.”
He shut the door behind him, stepping into the room a bit further. “Of course.”
She smiled and extended the stack of carefully folded letters to him. “Perfect. I’m trying to transcribe this in a way that’ll be interesting to readers, and I’m having trouble with the dynamics.”
Hunter picked up the first letter and began to open it. “Dynamics?”