Hunks, Hammers, and Happily Ever Afters

by Cari Quinn

  “Positive. Fixings will be ready in five minutes.” He paused chopping the green onions and glanced toward the percolating Mr. Coffee. “Don’t have any cream, but there’s milk if you need it.”

  She exhaled resignedly. “Well there goes my whipped cream fantasy.”

  He slashed her a look over his shoulder. “Whipped cream fantasy?’

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Oh, but I am. You’re gonna tell me every dirty detail.”

  “It’ll have to wait until after I eat. I can’t handle being hungry and horny.” She was suffering enough as it was with him performing his kitchen duties bare chested. Seriously, she was seconds away from rupturing an ovary.

  “Fine. But I’m holding you to it.” He tossed the onions into a frying pan and sautéed them before adding enough eggs and cream cheese to make her arteries whimper for mercy.

  As promised, the meal was ready within the five minute marker. While he dished up the food, she made herself useful by pouring their coffee and carrying it to the island. He indicated for her to take the bar stool on the left and she dutifully complied, her stomach rumbling loudly as he placed her dish in front of her. She was too ravenous to be embarrassed by the obnoxious sound. Huck settled into the seat next to her and they simultaneously dug into their food.

  Sharing breakfast with him felt nearly as intimate as having sex. And almost as good. It was too easy to imagine waking up every morning to this. To him. It was the stuff made of dreams. Unrealistic ones.

  Against her will, her thoughts replayed to her earlier epiphany in the woods. Much as she wanted to bring up his and Melanie’s names on the tree, uncertainty plagued her. For someone who was used to being unabashedly outspoken, it was a humbling sensation.

  What if upset him? It’d be a pretty rotten thing to do to the man who’d given her orgasms and bacon. She snagged one of the crispy strips and munched it moodily.

  “Your silence terrifies me.”

  Taken aback, she eyed him. “Why?”

  “Becomes it seldom occurs.”

  Yeah, he had her there. “Just thinking.”

  “Always a dangerous thing.”

  Undoubtedly the truth. Especially in this case. Still, maybe she poke around the question without coming right out with it. “So... there are a lot more names on the tree than I recalled.”

  He slid his gaze away, his jaw tightening. That response spoke more volume than actual words.

  Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t—“Did she do it or you?”

  He remained quiet long enough she regretted not listening to her own advice. Right then she would have paid a million dollars for a time machine just so she could travel back twenty seconds to slap some sense into her own stupid ass. Mourning the loss of the intimacy between them, she tucked her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked or brought it up.”

  “I did.”

  His flatly worded reply caught her off guard and she gaped at him. It wasn’t only that she hadn’t expected him to tell her, it was the answer itself that staggered her brain. “But I thought you didn’t believe in it.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “Because I was a fool back then.” He shrugged noncommittedly. Behind his feigned casualness, she sensed the walls going up. “Took me a while to see the error of my ways. They say money doesn’t grow on trees. Well, neither does love.”

  Tell that to all those people who are on that oak. She kept the thought to herself. It’d be beyond hurtful to point that out when it’d clearly not worked out for him and Melanie.

  God, no wonder he’d jumped at the offer to sell the tree. Having it there all this time must have been akin to a daily dose of salt in his wounds.

  But then why not sell it sooner? He’d admitted he’d have sold it for less. And she sincerely doubted this was the first time someone came to him with an offer. If he’d needed money, why wait until now? What could have triggered the final tipping—

  Oh my God.

  Melanie. It had to be. It couldn’t be random happenstance that his decision coincided with her returning to town. Maybe it wasn’t about the money at all.

  It was about obliterating his past.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  She couldn’t shove that heavy conclusion from her mind. Even while they cleaned up the kitchen and she helped dry the plates, she remained preoccupied with the ramifications of her findings.

  If she was right—and everything inside her told her it was the case—she stood little chance of dissuading him from following through with the tree felling. She teetered on a precarious balance beam of conflict. On one side, the importance of doing the right thing, for the oak, the town, and every individual yet to be united with their loved one.

  On the other side, Huck. He deserved to be freed from his past. Not forever haunted by it.

  She ached for him. Ached for the innocence he’d lost and the belief in a happy ever after. Ached for what could have been. For the two of them. Because more and more, that possible future resembled a hazy snapshot that only existed in her fantasies.

  “You’re quiet again.”

  She stowed the dish cloth on the counter and faced him. “She’s not worth the pain you’re causing yourself.”

  His jaw clenched again. “Tully, I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Okay.”

  He appeared shocked by her calm acquiesce. Probably because it was such a rare thing. But she was in no mood to fight or argue. There was no point to it. She’d said what needed to be said. Hopefully one day he’d see the light. Maybe it’d be enough to clear the darkness from his past.

  He sipped his coffee, his expression slightly suspicious—as if he thought she was pulling a fast one on him.

  “Would you mind if I used your shower? I feel like I have pine needles in places they shouldn’t be.” Grimacing, she plucked at the butt seam on her yoga pants. It was worse than having sand in your ass crack. Well, maybe not worse, but definitely equally unpleasant. On the bright side, she was going to smell woodsy fresh for a good long while.

  “Sure. Bath’s straight through there.” He jutted his chin in the direction of his bedroom. “Clean towels are on the peg.”

  “Thanks.” She shuffled to the bathroom and snicked the door shut behind her. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she winced. “Well, hello sexy goddess.” Her hair was a veritable rat’s nest. For real. There was at least a fifty-fifty chance a family of them had used it as a sleeping bag last night. Turning her back on the dreadful sight, she shimmied out of her clothes and dialed on the shower.

  The first jettison of water hitting her felt like a gift from the gods. Pine needles and various forest grime swirled down the drain. Next time she was trapped in the woods with a magical tree she’d ask for a steam shower. Or maybe even a Jacuzzi tub.

  “Hope you left some areas for me to scrub.”

  She returned Huck’s smirk through the fogged glass of the stall door. “I take it it’s against your religion to knock.”

  “Sorry not sorry.” He stripped off his pants and briefs, and after donning one of the condoms he’d filched from the woods, joined her beneath the spray. His midnight blue eyes darker than sin, he pivoted her to face the rear wall. He reached around her and grabbed his bottle of Old Spice body wash.

  “Wow, you were serious.”

  “When it comes to getting my woman squeaky clean, I never jest.”

  The my woman part gave the butterflies in her tummy something to cheerlead about. Too bad it was only a figure of speech. “Get me clean so you can dirty me up?”

  “How did you know?” He slid his arms around her from behind and sudsed her breasts, his slick, soapy fingers paying special attention to her nipples.

  She leaned into him, her body immediately responding to the sensuousness of his touch and the hard, hot press of his cock against her tailbone. “Well, I figured that was either a six shooter in your pocket or you’re obscenely happy
to see me. I’m hoping it’s the later.”

  “It is.” One hand released her breast and roamed along her abdomen. With a boldness that stole her breath, he cupped her pussy and hiked her up the same instant that thick, delicious cock of his eased into her. He gave a shallow pump, his thumb ghosting over her clit.

  Moaning, she planted her hands on the slick tile, her head spinning. “Huck.”

  “Mm, I do love the sound of my name on your lips. Particularly when my cock is buried balls deep in your sweet little pussy.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “What?” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “That I’m getting addicted to your pussy?”

  She couldn’t contain the glow of happiness at his words. Yes, it was probably just teasing on his part. But she’d still take it. “No, that you’re a filthy talker.”

  “I’d ask if you like it, but your soaked pussy is answer enough.”

  “Maybe I’m just wet from the shower. Ever think of that, Mr. Smarty Pants?”

  “No, baby. That cream is definitely all because of and for me.” He backed up his boast by withdrawing slightly, nudging her G spot with the tip of his cock.

  She whimpered.

  “You’re going to come so fucking hard for me.”

  “God, yes. Please.” Craving that promised orgasm and the steely shaft guaranteed to deliver it, she pushed back against him, countering his stroke. He freed his hands from her breast and clit and gripped her hips, pulling her into his plunging thrusts.

  The steam, the warm caress of water, the ceaseless friction of Huck’s cock shuttling in and out of her, driving her to the edge and beyond. It was all too much. She whimpered and bit her lip.

  “Rub your clit for me.”

  She complied with the command, shivering, her fingertip glossing over the drenched nub. Decadent sensations shimmered through her body. “Oh God. I think I’m going to—”

  “Do it, sweetheart. Come.” Huck’s raspy request pushed her past the brink. She hit the looming wall of rapture and shattered into a million pieces of bliss. His uneven breaths and desperate strokes hinted that he was close behind her in catching that same wave of ecstasy. With one last thrust that nearly sent her through the tile, he lodged to the hilt, cock pulsing as he shuddered and groaned.

  For several minutes neither of them had energy to do anything beyond slump weakly on the tiles. Eventually the water cooled and Huck killed the spray before opening the shower door and snatching a pair of towels. After wrapping one of the bath sheets around his waist, he dried her dripping hair, his gentle ministrations somehow managing to be the perfect blend of sweet and sexy. A man who took care of her like this? Yeah, she could definitely get used to it.

  Snuffing a sigh, she took the towel from him and finished drying off. He handed her clothes over. “Better snap to it. Tow’s due to arrive in six minutes.

  “Well, if someone would stop distracting me with hot sex...”

  Winking, he pinched her butt on the way out of the bathroom. “You love it, baby.”

  Lord, she did. More and more. Which would only make it harder when this intimacy between them ended. And it would. She needed to remain practical about this. No amount of wishing for a forever would make it happen.

  ~*~

  The hydraulic whine of the steel tow cable provided a noisy accompaniment to the country ballad blaring from the speakers in Larry’s cab. Apparently tone deaf to both, he spat a stream of tobacco to the right of his foot and squinted at her. “Say again how you ended up down there?”

  She caught Huck’s amused look from the corner of her eye. “It was a pothole.”

  “You know it’s best to avoid them things, right?”

  She wisely chose to ignore him and the evilly grinning Huck. Men.

  Once the station wagon was returned to the road, the three of them inspected the vehicle. Straightening, Larry slapped his ball cap back in place over his bald spot. “Doesn’t appear to have suffered any damage. Damn miracle, if you ask me.”

  Man, he’d hit the nail on the head with that one. Or at least close enough. Probably more accurate to call it a magical intervention.

  “If you still want me to tow you into the shop, I can. Give everything a proper looksee.”

  “No, I’ll drive it into town.” Speaking of which, she needed to haul ass to the book shop. No doubt her granny was wondering if she’d been abducted by aliens. Or was in jail.

  “Suit yourself. You run into any problems, you’ve got my number.” After collecting his fee, Larry hopped in his cab and rumbled down the road.

  She glanced at Huck. There’d never come a day when she’d get tired of looking at him. The man was sex-on-a-stick. Dressed in jeans and his requisite flannel shirt, he resembled the hottest Paul Bunyan in town. Only minus the beard. Though he’d probably rock the hell out of that too if he ever decided to grow one. “Do you need a lift back to your place?”

  “The walk will do me good.”

  “Okay.” God, why did she suddenly feel so awkward? “Well, thanks again for walking me down here. And waiting. Also for loaning me the sneakers.” She shuffled her feet. Even with three pairs of socks on it felt like she was wearing clown shoes. In Huck’s case, he lived up to that whole myth about the size of a man’s feet.

  “No problem.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and cleared his throat. “I was thinking of having lunch at Moonies. You’re welcome to join me.”

  Her heart skipped a joyous beat. Yes, a silly reaction to such a simple offer. But it made her ridiculously happy to know he actually wanted to spend time with her. “I’d like that. A lot. But we’ll make the gossips wag their tongues off,” she felt duty bound to remind him. She certainly didn’t care. But he might. Particularly since folks were already having a heyday about Melanie.

  “Fuck ‘em.” He followed her to her car and leaned his elbows on the window ledge. “I enjoyed breakfast. And dessert.”

  She blushed. “Me too.”

  “Good.” He ducked his head and provided a goodbye kiss that left her nerve endings buzzing and her panties undoubtedly damp. He shoved away from the car. “See you around noon.”

  Her brain too fried to piece together a coherent sentence, she nodded dumbly.

  The trip into town might as well have been done on autopilot for all the attention she paid it. There was no question that she was getting in way over her head with Huck. Her feelings for him were her Achilles heel. They always had been. And after the time they’d spent together yesterday and this morning, those emotions were stronger than ever.

  He might have given up on love, but her heart simply refused to give up on him. Even if it stood a real good chance of getting broken in the end.

  She pulled into the first available parking spot and killed the engine. Fortunately her mom and dad were still enjoying their twenty-eight year anniversary cruise in the Bahamas. That left only her granny to deal with. Steeling herself for the upcoming Sera Eastwood version of the Spanish Inquisition, she grabbed her purse and made the short trek to the renovated old Victorian housing Blue Moon Books.

  Her granny tossed up her arms the second Tully skulked through the doorway. “You had me worried sick!”

  “I’m sorry. I would have called you but my phone wasn’t working.”

  Sera offered up a disbelieving squint. Intent on smoothing her ruffled feathers, Tully crossed to her grandmother’s side and squeezed her in a hug. “I’m not making up a BS story. But the one I have to tell you probably will sound like it is.”

  Leaving out the sexy parts, she gave her granny an abridged account of yesterday’s insane adventures. By the time the tale was done, Sera’s grumpiness had vanished, replaced instead with obvious delight. She clapped her hands. “I knew it.”

  Tully frowned. “Knew what?”

  “That you two were meant to be together.”

  She gaped at her grandmother. “Me and Huck?”

  “No, you and that raccoon.”

  It was clear
where she got her smartassery from. “I’m pretty sure Huck would completely disagree with you there. He doesn’t even believe in the tree.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he believes it or not, it’s the truth. I’ve always felt it in my bones.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t just arthritis?” She winced when Sera whopped her upside the head. “Okay, clearly you don’t have arthritis.”

  “No. What I do have is a feel for these things. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “Like he’s contemplating strangling me?”

  Sera rubbed her chin. “Well, yes, there is that. But I was referring to that certain sparkle a man gets in his eye.”

  “Sparkle?”

  “Yes. It’s especially prevalent when he’s imagining a woman naked. Your grandfather always had that sparkle, horny old dodger.”

  Tully grimaced. “There’s something I could have spent the rest of my life not knowing.”

  “Take my word for it.”

  “Ugh. I’d rather bleach the memory from my mind.” She preferred not to fixate on old people’s sex lives if she could help it. Particularly when they appeared to be livelier than hers. At least until recently.

  “I was talking about Huck.”

  “Oh.” She fidgeted with the pockmark indenting the corner of the register. “Lust and love don’t always go hand in hand.”

  “Of course not. And you know my thoughts on the matter. One without the other makes for a dull marriage.”

  “I don’t think that’s something that will ever be an issue in regards to me and Huck.” She rolled her eyes at her grandmother’s wicked cackle. “You know I was referring to the marriage part, dirty old lady.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Eternally grateful that she hadn’t spilled the beans on the wild sex-a-thon in the woods, she coughed delicately into her fist. “If you’re done naming our nonexistent grandchildren, I have three boxes of books that need shelving.”

  Judging from her grandmother’s knowing smirk, she’d seen right through Tully’s smoke screen, but she surprisingly kept her mouth shut. Grateful for that miracle too, Tully trudged up the stairs to change.