Page 89 of Huckleberry Hill
“Of course I believe you. Why wouldn’t I believe you?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “You’re not going to ask me what we talked about?”
“I’m guessing if you want to tell me what you talked about, you’ll tell me. But I’m good just knowing you don’t have several of us in rotation.”
“Several of you—what?”
“Hmm. Maybe I am a little jealous.” His gaze strayed to my mouth. “The idea that you’d kiss someone else . . . Yeah, I don’t like thinking about that.”
“I’m not kissing anyone else,” I said softly.
“Good.”
We stared at one another, and I felt the back of my neck flush.
The timer on the oven dinged.
“Dinner’s ready.” He got up and went to deal with the nachos. He pulled them out of the oven and set them on a trivet.
“Declan?”
“Yeah?”
“You know what I love?”
“What’s that?”
“Cold nachos.”
He’d been reaching for the spatula when I voiced my announcement. Declan set it down and looked at me.
“You like cold nachos?”
“Love them,” I replied with a smile. I set my glass of wine onto the coffee table and stood up. I then slowly removed my denim jacket and tossed it onto the couch. Then I went for the straps of my yellow and blue sundress.
“Leave it,” he commanded, voice gruff. He stalked toward me and scooped me up into his arms. “Best fucking date ever.”
Chapter Nineteen
The Ranch
* * *
My heart pounded.
Declan carried me into the bedroom and flipped on the light. “I’m leaving it on this time. I want to see every bit of you.”
I shivered and nodded.
He placed me in the center of his neatly made bed.
I scrambled up to sit on my haunches and faced him. And then my hands went for his belt buckle.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I want to . . . what you did to me the other night.” I looked up at him through the sweep of my lashes. “I want to taste you. Please?”
His jaw clenched as he stared down at me, and then he nodded.
