He spun her again. She almost had it—but overstepped and stomped his foot. Muttering an apology, Charlie stepping back, red-faced, and stammered, “I think we can both agree I’m terrible at this.”
Tugging her back before she might run off, he said, “You just need practice,”
And so they kept at it, Charlie wearing a smile that wouldn’t quit. After several steps with no mistakes, triumph blazed all over her flushed face. So, with a flourish, Matthew spun her again, caught her too close and found himself staring hard at her mouth.
There was no stopping it, not when he saw her tongue dart out to wet that scar. With a growl he captured her lips, pressing a heated kiss on the startled woman.
The feel of her, the insistent pressure, sent his head swimming. Matthew grew relentless, sliding his mouth over hers until the golden girl whimpered.
The decadent sensation came to an end, Matthew pulling back to gauge her reaction. What he found was a dreamy smile and half-closed eyes.
Soft and wondrous, she said, “I never… No one has ever…” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth as if recapturing something wondrous. Dazed, she pressed closer, her voice suddenly husky. “Do it again.”
His response was immediate. Matthew’s lips crashed down and Charlie shyly began to kiss him back. Calloused grip wrapping around her nape, his thumb brushed her jaw, inspiring a shameless moan that left him rock hard.
Before he did something foolish like drag her down and take her right there on the forest floor, Matthew pulled back, panting, pale eyes burning against tan skin. Squeezing her close, he found himself unable to look away from her mouth, all swollen and pink… her pretty lips and that eye-catching scar.
Cock throbbing and balls drawn up tight, he had to force himself to seek out drugged blue eyes before more salacious thoughts of Charlotte’s mouth might tempt him to take advantage. Confusion was written all over her face, his golden girl peeking up with shy darting glances.
The proof was there. She was truly an innocent in the ways of men, no matter what she may have seen or how many colorful jokes she’d picked up or how many bodies she’d left in her wake.
As if she could read his thoughts and how truly ignoble they were, Charlie pushed back, stammering an apology as if she’d done something wrong. Reaching up to tuck a wild piece of hair behind her ear, Matthew tried to say with his actions what he didn’t know how to say with words.
Catching that vulnerable sapphire gaze with a softer one of his own, he was about to mumble something sweet, but Eli’s voice boomed out across the valley, the boy bellyaching he was hungry and ready to head back to Devil’s Hollow. The interruption set Charlie jumping like a scared rabbit. Before he could stop her, she shuffled past to gather up the meat she’d carved and carry it away.
Trying to act the gentleman, he helped the flustered woman manage the larger pieces and followed to where she’d hidden her car.
After tossing everything inside, Charlie turned, cheeks pink, combing her hair with her fingers. “I’ll be on my way now. Thanks for helping me load the car.”
Matthew pulled open her door, cleared his throat, and offered, “If you like, drive on down to the grill and I’ll cook you breakfast.”
Nodding mutely, she climbed behind the wheel, started the engine, driving off the second he closed her door.
By the time Matthew’s old truck pulled up, she looked like a girl again. But Nathaniel’s blood shot eyes took one look at her and he burst out laughing—a cotton dress and men’s boots not really being a sight he’d seen on a woman.
Fully aware of what garnered the reaction, she admitted sheepishly, “I couldn’t find my shoes.”
A hidden tic came to the corner of Matthew’s lips, but he quickly squelched it, sauntering up the steps to unlock the door.
When they were all inside, Charlie found Matthew hadn’t been completely honest when he offered to make her breakfast. Instead, with Nathaniel sitting at the bar and Eli grumbling beside him, Matthew fired up the grill and handed Charlie his apron.
Her first lesson in cooking had been simple: how to properly fry an egg, make coffee, and toast bread.
You would have thought Charlie was cooking for the President the way she focused and took care to do precisely as he instructed. And despite the moody expression, Matthew was highly amused at her bumbling... as was his kin.
The men ate her simple breakfast, exclaiming it was delicious, Charlie grumbling that they were being overly generous in their praise. The kitchen was a mess, several yolks wasted and burnt toast stinking up the air. Only the coffee had turned out decent… or so she’d hoped. Charlie didn’t sample the brew.
“Next time, you should teach her how to make flapjacks,” Nathaniel grunted, shoveling food down his throat. “That’s my favorite.”
“I’ll get right on that, Nathaniel.” Charlie pulled off the apron. “Well, burning your breakfast has been fun, but I need to run.”
“Where on earth you goin’ now?” Matthew grouched, about ready to catch a hold of her before she might disappear.
Winking at Eli, Charlie singsonged, “I’m gonna visit Ruth.”
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“Before you run off—” Eli chugged down his last bit of coffee, and stood, “—you got a package.”