“Is that slang for something dirty?”
He laughed so loudly that Oscar lifted his head to see what all the fuss was about. Drake’s cabin was so small that he was easily able to put his hands on her waist and spin her around to sit on his kitchen countertop. “Stay there while I get a fork.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re kind of bossy,” she teased as she dipped a finger into the pie and brought it to her lips. “Come back to my cabin,” she said in a low voice that was supposed to sound like his. “Go pose for me. Sit on the kitchen counter and don’t move.” She licked warm apple filling from her fingertip, her eyes closing for a moment of bliss before she opened them to say, “It’s pretty sexy, actually.”
Hell, she was the one who was both sexy and sweet, sitting on his counter in nothing but a pair of panties and a Montauk sweatshirt, with tangled sex-hair and apple pie on her lips. He nearly slammed the cutlery drawer shut on his hand as a powerful realization hit him right there in the middle of the kitchen.
Rosa was it for him.
This had happened to so many of Drake’s cousins that he didn’t try to fight it, even if other bachelors his age might have gone to battle, with everything they had, against falling in love.
Or maybe the reason he didn’t need to fight it was simply because from the first moment he’d set eyes on Rosa until this very moment in his kitchen, he’d found endless reasons to love her.
The way she was filled with light, inside and out, even when darkness would have surrounded anyone else in her position.
How much it had obviously hurt her to hear about the loss of his mother and his father’s relentless pain.
The fact that she still deeply loved her own mother even if her heart had been torn apart by the way her mother was dealing with the photos.
Rosa was so much stronger than she knew, and he wouldn’t stop looking for ways to make her see it too. Yes, he knew that her life was anything but simple right now, but Drake was finally starting to see that keeping things simple didn’t always mean they were better. And he sure as hell wasn’t afraid to take on her demons, not when he wished he could have gone to battle for her by doing more than just calling Smith for help.
She was, he knew now, worth any risk.
Even the risk of repeating his parents’ mistakes.
He wanted to say, I’m falling in love with you. But he knew better than to do that just yet. He didn’t want her to claim it was hot sex talking. Or to say that he only loved painting her. Or that he hadn’t had any sleep last night and would feel differently after he had.
Besides, given that her life was complicated enough already, it definitely seemed smarter to focus on the simple things—food, laughter, pleasure—to give her a chance to learn to trust again.
Soon, however, he’d put on the full-court press to make sure she knew that he wasn’t going anywhere...and that she shouldn’t either, because he didn’t need her to protect him from anyone or anything. No, what he needed was Rosa, messes and all.
Drake pushed the fork into the pie, then lifted it to her mouth. “Open up.”
“See?” she said with a little smile. “Bossy.” But she happily took the bite he offered and then the next before she’d even finished the first. “Mmm, I need more.”
“Never thought I’d be jealous of an apple pie,” he grumbled as he answered her request with a third bite that was all apple.
“It is really good,” she said when she’d finished it. “But I’m thinking we can make it even better. How do you feel about being each other’s plate?”
Drake couldn’t get his shirt—or her top—off fast enough.
“I take it,” she said through her laughter, “that’s a yes?”
“It’s a hell yes. You first.”
For as hard as his blood was pumping and as fast as his heart was racing, he was amazed by how gentle he was able to be as he laid her down on the counter, wearing only her panties now. He wanted to feast on her, and it was damned tempting to forget about the pie altogether. But since he also hoped that this sexy game was her way of opening up to him a little bit more, he didn’t want to screw things up by changing the rules. Not when she’d had way too many rules changed on her already.
Dipping his finger into the pie, he lifted it to her breasts and circled one nipple with the warm, sweet filling. Her eyelids fluttered to half-mast as he bent to lick it off. It was hard to go slowly, to savor, when all he wanted was to devour—especially when her hands had tangled in his hair to bring him closer. But he wouldn’t rush giving her pleasure as he licked every inch of her left breast, then started all over by painting apple pie around her right nipple and giving it the same hungry treatment with his tongue.