Page 37 of Promise Me a Forever Texas Love

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. “I guess because I could. You don’t like it?”

She hadn’t. Now, after touching it, she wasn’t so sure. There was something so virile about it. So manly and . . . sexy. She couldn’t help wondering how it would feel against her lips.

Or her inner thighs.

Her brain flashed a warning. Abort! But her body didn’t listen. Probably because when you ignored something for as long as she had ignored her bodily urges, it decides to take matters into its own hands.

Literally.

Her hand moved of its own free will, stroking along the hard angle of his jaw, testing the manly scruff that grew there. It wasn’t as soft as his mustache. The stiff hair prickled her fingertips, causing a wave of tingling to sweep through her body and settle between her legs.

“Cadee?”

She knew why he’d said her name like a question. What was she doing? Too bad she didn’t have an answer . . . or the ability to stop.

She traced up his jaw to the hair that covered his ear, she smoothed it back before she finally raised her gaze to his.

In the morning sun spilling over the porch, his eyes were molten gold.

She could have blamed the desire she read in their depths as a trick of the sunlight if she hadn’t felt him harden against her stomach. Like a mare in heat when she scents a stud, her body trembled with need as her brain once again sent a warning.

Get away from him before it’s too late.

But it was already too late.

Her hands slid around the back of his head, her fingers burying in the silky strands of his hair as she rose higher on her toes and tilted her head.

Then she was kissing Huck.

He tasted like hot summer days swimming in the river and cool autumn nights staring at the stars. He tasted like shared grape popsicles and warm, toasty s’mores. Uncontrollable belly laughs and softly whispered secrets.

He tasted like memories she didn’t want to remember but never could forget.

“Cadee.” This time, the word whispered against her lips wasn’t a question. It was a revelation. How had she ever lived without hearing him say her name? Like it was something special. Something to be cherished.

His hands came up to cradle her face, and she waited for him to deepen the kiss and give her what she wanted. What she’d always wanted. More Huck. But instead of deepening the kiss, he drew back.

His eyes were no longer filled with heat. They were filled with . . . sad resignation.

His gaze lowered to her mouth and stayed there for a long moment as his fingers tightened beneath her jaw. Then he released her and stepped back. He turned away and walked to the end of the porch where he ran his hand through his hair and spoke so softly, she couldn’t make out the words. But she could make out the tone.

Frustrated anger.

When he turned back around, his hair was messed and his eyes pleaded with her to understand.

“I don’t want you to think me pulling away has anything to do with me not wanting to kiss you. I’m sure it was pretty obvious that I like you touching me. But the last time we . . . got carried away, everything went a little haywire.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t let that happen again. Not now. Not when I need to be steady and strong for Camden. So I just think it would be best if we kept things friendly.”

Her brain finally took charge, and she realized what had just happened.

She’d just forced herself on Huck Hennessy.

And he pushed her away.

Her face flamed with embarrassment as she tried to salvage even the tiniest bit of dignity.

“I don’t know what you think was going to happen, Huckleberry, but I wasn’t planning on having sex with you on the front porch in broad daylight. I was just . . .” She scrambled through her mind for a plausible excuse and only came up with one. “I was just curious about what it would feel like to kiss a man with a mustache.”

His eyebrows lifted. “So you’re saying I could have been any guy with a mustache standing on your front porch and you would have kissed me?”