Holding Strong
Page 62
But she wanted him to take her to the wedding.
She’d offered him sex.
He’d either just made the best deal of his life, or tied his own noose.
* * *
DENVER DIDN’T GET to the house until damn near nine o’clock. After sharing with Stack this new turn of events, he needed to see Cherry. To his surprise, he found her and Yvette sitting on the front porch talking to two of his fighter buddies, Miles and Brand, beneath a yellow porch light. As he opened his door and got out, he heard Cherry’s laugh. It carried on the night, curled inside him. Turned him on.
Nudged his possessiveness.
Which was dumb because any idiot could see they were just sitting around chatting. Being that they were part of the group, backup whenever Cannon needed it, he assumed Miles and Brand were there to keep a watchful eye out. Better the porch than cozy on the couch.
He trusted them, all of them.
Heading up the walkway, his small overnight case in hand, he saw Brand lean in and say something low to Cherry. While watching Denver she listened to Brand, and her smile made his jeans feel too tight. When she burst out laughing again, it did insane things to him, even when a spate of coughing followed the laugh.
Brand patted her on her back. Miles fanned her face.
She’d regained her breath before he reached her, leaving him free to catch the back of her neck and take her mouth in a kiss that no one would misunderstand.
When he finally lifted away, she said, “Denver,” in a breathy, surprised reprimand.
Brand, sitting closest to her, said, “If he pisses on you, don’t be surprised.”
“Marking his territory,” Miles agreed.
Rissy laughed. “You guys are so gross.”
Both men stood, stretched.
How long had they been there? Denver reached a hand down to Cherry and pulled her to her feet and into his side. “Still coughing?”
“Not much.” She slanted her attention at the guys. “Only when some people keep making me laugh.”
With two fingers under her chin, Denver brought her gaze back to him. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Denver,” she whispered again, embarrassed. “Stop fussing.”
“I don’t fuss.”
Too late. Given their grins, the guys heard her and now he knew they’d be ribbing him for a month. He took the seat Miles vacated and, setting the overnight case aside, pulled Cherry into his lap.
Rissy gathered up half-empty glasses of iced tea and put them on a tray. “I need to head in, too. Tomorrow is another superearly day.”
“You work too much,” Miles told her.
She smiled, shrugged. “Not like I have much else to do.”
As she started in, all three guys shared a look. Damn.
Miles jumped forward to open the front door for her. “Thanks for the food.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
Brand asked, “You aren’t dating what’s-his-name anymore?”
“That ended a while ago.”
“He’s still calling,” Cherry said. “He wants her back.”
Rissy rolled her eyes. “Not happening. Right now I’m just concentrating on a promotion at work. Fingers crossed.” She went on into the house, then said through the doorway, “Good night.”
After a round of good-nights from everyone, Denver teased his fingers up and down Cherry’s bare arm. She wore polka-dot flannel pajama pants and a cute matching T-shirt. A high ponytail held her blond curls away from her face and her bare feet, toenails painted pink, poked out from the hem of the overlong pants.
He wanted her, in too many ways to count.
“I feel like a voyeur,” Miles said. “Rein it in until I’m out of here.”
“We’re not doing anything!” Cherry protested.
Denver just smiled. No doubt both Brand and Miles knew the direction of his thoughts. Guy instinct.
Brand dug keys from his jeans. “We’re heading out, too.” He gave them each a devilish grin. “You kids be good now, you hear.”
As they walked away, Cherry tried to stand but Denver held tight. “What were you laughing about?”
“It’s terrible.” She turned her face into his neck, but he could feel her smile.
“Tell me.” He kissed her jaw, along to her ear. Breathing softly, he touched with his tongue, teasing the lobe, then inside the whorls.
She shifted and he felt her shiver.
“I want to know,” he whispered.
A balmy evening breeze drifted over them, heightening his senses. It seemed the more he wanted to protect her, the more he just plain wanted her.
She’d offered him sex.
He’d either just made the best deal of his life, or tied his own noose.
* * *
DENVER DIDN’T GET to the house until damn near nine o’clock. After sharing with Stack this new turn of events, he needed to see Cherry. To his surprise, he found her and Yvette sitting on the front porch talking to two of his fighter buddies, Miles and Brand, beneath a yellow porch light. As he opened his door and got out, he heard Cherry’s laugh. It carried on the night, curled inside him. Turned him on.
Nudged his possessiveness.
Which was dumb because any idiot could see they were just sitting around chatting. Being that they were part of the group, backup whenever Cannon needed it, he assumed Miles and Brand were there to keep a watchful eye out. Better the porch than cozy on the couch.
He trusted them, all of them.
Heading up the walkway, his small overnight case in hand, he saw Brand lean in and say something low to Cherry. While watching Denver she listened to Brand, and her smile made his jeans feel too tight. When she burst out laughing again, it did insane things to him, even when a spate of coughing followed the laugh.
Brand patted her on her back. Miles fanned her face.
She’d regained her breath before he reached her, leaving him free to catch the back of her neck and take her mouth in a kiss that no one would misunderstand.
When he finally lifted away, she said, “Denver,” in a breathy, surprised reprimand.
Brand, sitting closest to her, said, “If he pisses on you, don’t be surprised.”
“Marking his territory,” Miles agreed.
Rissy laughed. “You guys are so gross.”
Both men stood, stretched.
How long had they been there? Denver reached a hand down to Cherry and pulled her to her feet and into his side. “Still coughing?”
“Not much.” She slanted her attention at the guys. “Only when some people keep making me laugh.”
With two fingers under her chin, Denver brought her gaze back to him. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Denver,” she whispered again, embarrassed. “Stop fussing.”
“I don’t fuss.”
Too late. Given their grins, the guys heard her and now he knew they’d be ribbing him for a month. He took the seat Miles vacated and, setting the overnight case aside, pulled Cherry into his lap.
Rissy gathered up half-empty glasses of iced tea and put them on a tray. “I need to head in, too. Tomorrow is another superearly day.”
“You work too much,” Miles told her.
She smiled, shrugged. “Not like I have much else to do.”
As she started in, all three guys shared a look. Damn.
Miles jumped forward to open the front door for her. “Thanks for the food.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
Brand asked, “You aren’t dating what’s-his-name anymore?”
“That ended a while ago.”
“He’s still calling,” Cherry said. “He wants her back.”
Rissy rolled her eyes. “Not happening. Right now I’m just concentrating on a promotion at work. Fingers crossed.” She went on into the house, then said through the doorway, “Good night.”
After a round of good-nights from everyone, Denver teased his fingers up and down Cherry’s bare arm. She wore polka-dot flannel pajama pants and a cute matching T-shirt. A high ponytail held her blond curls away from her face and her bare feet, toenails painted pink, poked out from the hem of the overlong pants.
He wanted her, in too many ways to count.
“I feel like a voyeur,” Miles said. “Rein it in until I’m out of here.”
“We’re not doing anything!” Cherry protested.
Denver just smiled. No doubt both Brand and Miles knew the direction of his thoughts. Guy instinct.
Brand dug keys from his jeans. “We’re heading out, too.” He gave them each a devilish grin. “You kids be good now, you hear.”
As they walked away, Cherry tried to stand but Denver held tight. “What were you laughing about?”
“It’s terrible.” She turned her face into his neck, but he could feel her smile.
“Tell me.” He kissed her jaw, along to her ear. Breathing softly, he touched with his tongue, teasing the lobe, then inside the whorls.
She shifted and he felt her shiver.
“I want to know,” he whispered.
A balmy evening breeze drifted over them, heightening his senses. It seemed the more he wanted to protect her, the more he just plain wanted her.
