Page 55 of Better Not Pout
“You sounded stressed, so I wanted to come check on you,” he murmurs, reaching out to curve his hand around my waist and pull me closer.
His other hand moves to my jaw, and he cups the edge in his palm, brushing the pad of his thumb along it gently. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
It’s unbearably sweet and completely unexpected.
But I’m beginning to learn that’s exactly who Wells McCoy is. He’s the guy who shows up to help, no matter what he’s got going on.
Which I know is a lot, and that’s exactly why I shake my head. “No, you have so much going on at the bar an?—”
“Rosalie,” he says with a low, rough tone, cutting off my protests. “Let me help. I’m here, and I can do whatever you need. Whatever’s happening at the bar can wait until tomorrow.Plus, Collin and the guys can handle things without me for a few hours. That’s why I hired them.”
I curve a brow. “You sure you want to make candy?”
His amber-colored eyes flicker with amusement as he stares down at me, his lip tugging into a grin. “Probably going to be horrible at it, but I can wash dishes if that’s what you need help with. Whatever takes shit off your plate.”
Again, my heart thrashes in my chest at how sweet and attentive he’s being.
Especially because he doesn’t have to be. No one is here to see us faking it.
I’m going to have to obsess over that little tidbit later—yet another thing that’s not something I’d normally do, but Wells seems to bring out things that I didn’t even know existed until he moved to Mistletoe Falls.
Finally, I nod. “Okay, grab an apron.”
An hour later, Wells is standing at the counter, placing caramel carefully in the molds with the cutest look of pure concentration on his face. The space between his brow is furrowed tightly as he focuses on distributing the exact amount, and each time he does, he looks so proud.
“You know, you look extremely sexy in that apron,” I murmur from beside him, my tone teasing. “I think you should wear it more. Maybe…” I lift my finger that’s got a smudge of wet caramel at the tip and swipe it slowly along the corner of his mouth. “You should wear it without anything underneath it.”
His gaze whips to mine, his tongue peeking out to swipe at the caramel.
God, that was freaking hot.
“Yeah? You into role-playing, Rosalie?” His words are a low, hoarse whisper that I can feel in my belly.
If I weren’t on the biggest time crunch possibly ever, then I would have to drag him upstairs and show him exactly whatseeing him in that apron, being so selfless and helpful, does to me.
Turning on women is not just about filthy words, a good body, and a great cock.
It’s things just like this too.
“Guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” I smart back.
Lifting onto the tips of my toes, I lick away the remaining caramel before planting a quick, teasing kiss at the corner of his lips.
“You’re giving me a lot of very dirty ideas with this, Sugar.”
Oh my God.
He means…
“Whatever you’re thinking? Exactly that,” he says as if he can read my mind, or maybe I’m just that transparent with my expressions. Likely the latter.
Before I can even respond, my mouth hanging agape at the thought of Wells doing anything to me with caramel, making my brain hazy and unfocused, full of arousal, he adds, “But you needed help because you’ve got to get this delivered tonight, so we’ll have to pick this conversation up later.”
I manage to nod after pushing a rough swallow down my throat.
I can honestly say I never thought making candy would turn me on, but thanks to Wells…
I’m adding it to the list.
