Page 142 of Huckleberry Hill
His eyes darkened. “Fuck yeah you can watch, but I’m gonna want to come all over you. And once again that defeats the purpose of not showing up at your family’s house looking like we got into trouble.”
I swallowed, my mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. Of us tasting each other.
“Go,” he urged. “I need a cold shower. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Fifteen minutes? Seriously?” I asked.
He grinned. “Time me.”
I pulled out my phone. “Okay. I will.” I set the clock and with one last kiss goodbye, I forced myself to walk out of the cabin. I headed back to the main house, keeping an eye on the time.
Dad and Muddy were in the kitchen, having cocktails. I shook my head at my father’s offer of bourbon and grabbed water instead.
“Where’s Declan?” Muddy asked.
“Showering,” I said. “He’ll be along in a bit.”
I was in the middle of setting the table when my phone alarm went off. I silenced it just as the front door opened.
“Hey,” Declan greeted, his eyes finding mine. “Was that your alarm?”
“It was.” I bit my lip to stifle a giggle.
He arched a brow and then turned his attention to Muddy. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. Pour yourself a drink. Connor’s in the den.”
“That was pointed,” I said with a laugh.
“It sure was,” Muddy agreed. She handed me a basket covered with a napkin. “Biscuits.”
Declan went into the den and straight to the liquor cart. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he sat on the other end of couch and didn’t say anything to my father.
“This is going to be fun,” I muttered.
“Give them some time. They were buddies before you got between them.”
I gasped. “I didn’t get between them.”
Muddy raised her brows.
“Fine, but I didn’t mean to.”
“Green beans, and mashed potatoes,” she said, pointing to the dishes. “And take a trivet. I’m bringing the tenderloin right from the oven.”
“On it,” I said.
“We’re ready,” Muddy called out.
Dad wasted no time getting up from his seat and bringing his drink to the table. Declan was slower. I took the chair next to Declan and we all sat down. Muddy brought in the beef tenderloin and poured gravy over the top of it.
“Smells amazing,” Declan said.
“It does,” I agreed. “Doesn’t it, Dad?”
Dad grunted.
After Muddy took her seat, I picked up the basket of biscuits and handed it to my father. “How was your day?”
