Off Base(60)

He leveled a searing gaze on her, intent and hungry for something that definitely was not cake. Her chest squeezed so tightly it ached. She watched him, her eyes wide, as he lifted her hand to her mouth. He brought her index finger into his mouth, sucking the chocolate-coated fingertip. She gasped and his eyes darkened. He made a low growling sound of satisfaction. Her stomach dipped and twisted as he circled her finger with his tongue, licking off every last bit of icing.

“Need help with the cake, sis?” Beck called from the other room.

She jumped guiltily at the sound of her brother’s voice. Mortification fired her cheeks as she thought about him in the next room. Her brother walking in on her getting her finger sucked by his best friend wasn’t exactly on her things-to-do list. She pulled her finger free and hastily collected three plates. Eyes still trained on her, Cullen picked up the last plate of cake and followed her out of the kitchen, only to find Beck and Kenna locked in a scorching kiss that made her want to spoon out her eyes. As much as she adored her brother, there were some things you just didn’t want to see.

She cleared her throat and they withdrew from each other, both looking like they wished they were alone in a bedroom and not in her kitchen. She could understand that. Her finger still tingled from Cullen’s mouth, and that wasn’t the only part of her tingling.

She passed around the cake.

“Mmm, delicious,” Kenna said after taking her first bite.

“Hunt knows her way around a kitchen,” Beck volunteered.

She shrugged self-consciously. “Well, Grandma didn’t let me leave Georgia without copying down all her recipes.”

Her brother nodded at Cullen. “Surprised Hunt didn’t fatten you up while I was gone, Cullen.”

Cullen dug into a huge mouthful of cake that would have been four bites for her. “If I didn’t run so much, she would have.”

They finished their cake in silence. Plate empty, Beck leaned back in his chair, his fingers trailing in the ends of Kenna’s dark strands. “Have you given any more thought to what we talked about, Huntley?”

She felt the weight of Cullen’s gaze on her and shifted uneasily. “A little,” she replied vaguely, knowing he was referring to her moving back to Georgia.

“It’d be nice to have you near us.” Her brother draped his hand over Kenna’s bare knee. For a moment his gaze got lost there, like that pretty knee was all he wanted in this world. Huntley risked a quick glance up to find that Cullen was watching her with almost equal intensity.

She quickly escaped his stare, looking back at her brother and Kenna. They were an “us” now. A lump formed in her chest. She was happy for him … and envious.

“Talk to her, Cullen.” Beck tore his gaze off Kenna’s knee and clapped Cullen on the shoulder. “Tell her she should move back home.”

A flicker of something passed over Cullen’s face. Huntley held her breath, trying to read him, to decipher what it was she had seen there in that split second.

“I don’t know,” Cullen answered slowly. “She should do what she wants. Do you want to move back home?” Air deflated from her lungs as Cullen lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Well, Hunt? What do you want to do?” Beck prodded.

She moistened her lips, her gaze stuck on Cullen. “I—I don’t know.”

Cullen’s gaze dropped to his cake, cutting another bite as if her answer didn’t matter one way or the other to him. “I guess you better decide that first.”

The next half hour passed in a miserable blur. What had she expected? For Cullen to declare himself? Announce that he loved her and needed her here? That kind of thing only happened in movies. Not. Her. Life.

After accepting two slices of chocolate cake to go, Beck and Kenna left.

Cullen made himself at home, busying himself in the kitchen, loading dishes into the dishwasher like it was any other night they were hanging out.

Why couldn’t they have this all the time? Well, with the added bonus of sex, of course.

She watched him for a moment, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter, admiring the way his jeans fit. God. How could she ever be in the same room with this man and not want to crawl inside him? Loading the last glass, he shut the dishwasher door and turned. His mouth curled up at one corner as he caught her watching him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she rejoined. “You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t even dirty the majority of them.”

“I don’t mind. And I fully intend to take some lasagna home with me.”

So he wouldn’t be staying the night then?

She moved into the living room and sank down on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and willing the awkwardness between them to evaporate. She reached for the remote as he lowered beside her, glad to have something to occupy her hands.

“Want to watch some TV?” She tried not to stare at his muscled thighs or the way his shirt rested against his flat stomach and cut pecs. “I think there’s a Vikings marathon on.” She barely made it to the right channel before warm fingers circled her ankle.

She gasped and dropped the remote as he tugged her foot onto his lap. “What are you doing?” she choked.

“Rubbing your feet. You’ve been on them all day.”

She sighed in joy the moment his thumbs pushed down on the balls of her feet. Her body went limp and she melted into the couch. He was right. She had been on her feet all day. Even with the best shoes and massaging gel-cushioning inserts, her feet ached by the end of her shift. “That is amazing.”