Holly Jolly Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #7)(32)

Once the food was gone, he drained his coffee cup, then leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dessert.”

“Now?” After he’d just stuffed his face full of chicken and most of the sides? She shook her head, amused. “Is your leg hollow?”

“Yours isn’t?” he jibed back.

“Let me clear the table and then I’ll bring the cake out,” Holly told him. “More coffee?”

“More coffee would be great, and it might be my birthday, but it’s your day off,” Adam said, and got to his feet. “I can clear the table.” He plucked one of the dirty plates out of her hand before she could stop him. “You’ve done plenty.”

That was . . . kind of nice of him. But she teased him anyhow, just because. “Well, darn it, there goes my dollar tip.”

He smirked at her. “Hey, you deserved every bit of that dollar.”

She made a face in his direction. “I’ll get the coffee at least.” Her steps were light as she headed into the kitchen, and she couldn’t stop smiling. It was weird, having a truce between the two of them tonight. Normally they were hissing and spitting at each other like two wildcats, but tonight, it was . . . easy. It was fun.

It was almost like . . . flirting.

The moment it crossed her mind, Holly shoved it right back out. Adam was not her type. He was just being polite because she’d worked hard to make him a nice dinner, and he was grateful. Their jabs still had a bit of an edge to them, and a lot of their conversation tended to steer clear of anything that could head in the wrong direction.

It was a cease-fire. Nothing more.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





Adam supposed he should have felt guilty about that dinner.

He’d lied and told Holly it was his birthday, and instead of just pulling together some quick cake and shoving a candle on it, she’d worked in the kitchen all day to make him a heavenly meal and then the most obscenely chocolate cake he’d ever tasted. The thing had peanut butter on the inside, and he’d been surprised at the sly joke.

She’d only winked at him as she’d licked the back of her fork.

Now he was back in his cabin, his belly full and an enormous container of leftover cake on the table . . . and his cock was hard as a rock.

What was his damn problem? He stopped hating Holly for an entire night and suddenly his dick sprang to life?

Adam rubbed the front of his jeans, aching painfully. She was just cooking food. She was just being nice. It didn’t mean anything. Except every time he tried to think about anything else, he thought instead about how she’d worn her dark hair down and it had framed her pretty face. He thought about how soft and touchable it looked, and he wondered how it’d feel against his fingers.

He thought about how she’d licked the back of her fork, her tongue darting out to capture a bit of chocolate. He thought about the husky note of her laughter.

And he jerked at his belt, quickly undoing it and taking himself in hand. He stroked his length fast and hard, imagining her pink little tongue flicking over the head of his cock like it had over the fork. He thought of her under him, her dark hair spilling over his pillows. Within moments, Adam came with a groan, the release barreling out of him like a freight train.

Damn.

He lay back on his bed, panting. He didn’t understand himself. She was still his enemy, still the annoying woman who’d deliberately given him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off, just because she didn’t like him. Except tonight . . . he’d kinda liked her sharp sense of humor. She’d made him a big meal and an amazing cake because she’d wanted him to feel special. It hadn’t mattered that they were at each other’s throats more often than not.

She’d wanted him to feel special on his damn birthday. Not that it really was his birthday.

For all that he disliked Holly . . . she had a kind streak inside her. He thought about how she made sure to take care of Carson, how she had made soup after soup for him so he could fight off his cold. How she was baking cookies for him to take to his daughter. He suspected Holly genuinely liked taking care of people.

He wondered if anyone had ever taken care of her. Probably not, if what Becca had told him was true. That she’d fallen into the role of her sister’s caretaker and dropped out of high school so they could stay together. Her sister was in college now, but from what he could tell, she was still determined to take care of her from afar, and now she was focused on him and Carson.

Adam pulled off his shirt and wiped his spend off his chest, grimacing to himself. He hadn’t come so hard or so fast since he was a schoolboy. He got up from the bed and glanced over at Hannibal, who was curled up in his own bed in the corner, his favorite chew toy tucked between his paws. Hannibal liked her, too, and his dog didn’t like much of anyone other than him. How many times had Donna complained that Hannibal never listened to her? But his big dog was perfectly behaved when it came to Holly.

He headed to the window and peered out. More thick snowflakes were falling, which meant tomorrow was going to be brutal in the saddle. Adam glanced up at the windows to the main house like a pervert, wondering if he’d get a glimpse of her form again. The lights were off, though.

Funny how that disappointed him.

Holly was his enemy, he reminded himself. The last thing he needed was an obsession with a woman just because she’d made him a cake. But . . . it had been nice to not be at each other’s throats. It had been even nicer to have dinner with her, to sit down and talk about nothing in particular. Carson never wanted to socialize unless he felt obligated to, like when Jason had brought them to lunch. Or when they were riding together.