Home > The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (Bluebonnet #2)(54)

The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (Bluebonnet #2)(54)
Author: Jessica Clare

And she thought about Allan’s words. Were people avoiding her because she was dating Colt? Had Allan told people that he’d caught them making out in the school classroom? Had Georgia said that they’d been house hunting? She felt a small, sick twist in her gut.

The town wasn’t going to try and force her to choose between her business and her lover, were they? That was ridiculous.

But she thought about it as she walked back to her salon and got in her car, and checked her phone that she’d turned off during the meeting.

A text from Colt. Her heart gave a small flip of longing as she read it.

You busy tonight? It was from fifteen minutes ago.

I am always wide open for you, she texted back with a grin.

Dirty girl, he replied, and she could almost see his smile. Come meet me at the ranch. Main office.

Beth Ann drove out to the Daughtry Ranch and parked her VW. She saw only the usual suspects—Miranda’s old jalopy, Dane’s jeep, Colt’s truck, and Grant’s more sedate Audi at the far end of the parking lot. Not a surprise considering that it was getting pretty late. There was still a light on at the main lodge, though. She headed there.

The front door was unlocked even if the Closed sign was flipped, and so she stepped in with a knock. “Hello?”

“In the back kitchen,” Colt drawled.

A surprise dinner? She followed the sound of his voice, smiling, and weaved her way past the large oak desks in the main lobby. The lodge had once been someone’s house, though now that it was a business, she guessed the kitchen didn’t get used all that often. The lights down the hall were all off, except for one crack of light under a swinging white door, and so she pushed through it.

And stopped in surprise.

The kitchen was a disaster. Flour covered every inch of countertop. Dirty mixing bowls and spoons lay everywhere. There was a puddle of something dark poured down one side of the sink. Just about every dish looked as if it had been pulled out and used.

Brenna and Colt stood in front of this mess, shoulder to shoulder. They both wore aprons, and Brenna had dirty smudges on her cheeks. As Beth Ann watched, Brenna picked up a bowl of flour, grabbed a handful, and tossed it into Colt’s face.

Colt’s jaw flexed, but his expression remained impassive. He did not look amused at Brenna’s mischievousness.

“What’s all this?” Beth Ann took a step forward, and then hesitated when her shoe slid on the tile. Flour on the floor, even. Not a surprise if Brenna was throwing it.

Brenna gave a wild, delighted laugh and elbowed Colt. Beth Ann saw Colt’s dimple peek out. He glanced over at Brenna.

They both separated and moved to the side. “Happy birthday!”

Behind them, hidden by their shoulders, was an enormous round cake. It was covered in white frosting, with a delicate rose piped along the center. As Beth Ann stepped forward, she saw that Happy Birthday had been written across the top.

Beth Ann looked over at Colt in surprise. “It’s not my birthday.”

He shrugged and tugged on one of her belt loops, pulling her toward him. “Remember what you told me?”

She shook her head, staring at him. Her heart was giving this funny, weird little thump that made her entire body flutter with a mixture of need and…something else.

He tugged her close and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You said you wanted to eat an entire birthday cake one day, just because no one let you. And I was thinking I’d like to see you eat that cake. Put a smile on your face after a bad day.”

Her gaze blurred. He knew she’d had a bad day. He’d called her earlier, and though she’d tried to make light of her lack of clients, it had probably come through her voice. And all this—she stared at the mess in the kitchen. This had likely been a few hours of preparation and work.

For her. Because he wanted her to smile. Because he wanted to give her a cake to eat.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down for a quick, scorching kiss. Her tongue licked inside his mouth, letting him know just how pleased she was.

He broke the kiss off with a small groan, then leaned in and said in a low voice, “Help me get rid of Brenna. I can’t shake her. As soon as she found out I was making you a cake, she wouldn’t go away.”

Beth Ann looked over at the other woman, who was watching them both with an amused smile. The woman acted childish at times, but Beth Ann suspected it was all very deliberate. “Hey, Brenna?”

“Hey yourself.”

“I’d really like to make love to my boyfriend right now,” she said softly, and brushed her thumb over his lips. He groaned, bit the pad of her thumb, and she gave Brenna a slow smile. “Think you can bail out on us?”

Brenna winked. “Absolutely.” She sauntered to the door, paused by a half-open bag of flour, and grabbed it. “If Grant asks, you two did not see me leave with this.”

And then she left.

Beth Ann turned to Colt, running her fingers down the front of his apron. His was immaculate. Not surprising to learn that the mess was probably 90 percent Brenna. “Are those two sleeping together?”

“Not yet,” he said, his dimple flashing. “They claim to hate each other.”

“Oh, that,” she whispered huskily, and leaned in to suck on his lower lip. When he groaned, she caressed it with her tongue, and leaned back. “I think they’re lying to themselves, then.”

“Kind of like us?”

“Very much like us,” she said softly. Her hands went to his apron and she tugged the strings at his waist undone. She tugged the apron off and tossed it to the side, her hands moving to his belt buckle.

His hands caught hers. “You want to try your cake first, darlin’?”

She shook her head and bit her lip, giving him a naughty look. “I’m kind of hungry for something else.”

Need flared in his eyes and his hands went back to brace his body against the counter. “Oh?”

She nodded, finished unbuckling his pants, and knelt before him. She tugged them down to his knees, and then tugged his briefs down. His c**k rose, hard and thick already. She continued to tug his pants down, noticing the long white scar that ran along one knee. She leaned in and kissed it, because she knew he hated it. Knew that it was why he’d left the marines. He hadn’t had a choice.

But she loved it, because it had brought him here, to her.

“My scar’s not half as interesting as my cock,” he said in a husky voice.

   
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