Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [7]
“Man, I was hoping for blueberry.” Amused, Braden watched Angie’s head snap up, her eyes narrowing in automatic response to his voice.
“Customers don’t belong in the kitchen.” She dismissed him, turning back to her mixing bowl.
“Come on, Ange. I brought you flowers.” Braden waved them in Angie’s direction, desperate to be rid of them.
“Don’t know what I’d want with a bunch of weeds.”
Braden knew better. Lilies were Angie’s favorite and Braden hadn’t missed a birthday, Mother’s Day or special occasion in more than a decade. He figured it was only fair considering he’d terrorized Portland with her twin boys in his late teens.
Caught off guard, Braden sneezed twice, managing to catch most of the second with his sleeve.
“Disgusting. This is a kitchen, not a hospital.” Angie pointed the business end of her wooden spoon in Braden’s direction. “And give me those. You’re crushing them.”
“Missed you, too, Ange.” As she snatched the flowers away, Braden took the opportunity to brush a quick kiss across her cheek.
“Mmm-hmm. Go wash the snot off your hands. I won’t have you infecting my kitchen. Did you have a good trip?” Angie pulled a large glass pitcher from a cabinet and took her time arranging the flowers.
“It was fine. Mostly business. I did get a chance to see my parents for about a week.” Braden aborted his attempt to sneak a scone as Angie pulled her spoon from her apron. Not worth the risk. “How are Mike and Tim?”
“Get a plate and a napkin.” Angie said, sliding the spoon back into her apron pocket. “And you probably see more of Michael than I do. But Timothy is fine. Nancy is expecting again, sometime in November.”
Braden let out a low whistle. “How many does that make? Three? Four?”
“Four. Would it be too much to ask for you or Michael to settle down?”
“Harp on your own kid. I get it enough from my mother. Besides, you never like any of my girlfriends, Ange.”
“That’s because they’re all frivolous idiots. The right woman would do you wonders, Braden Edwards.”
Awareness slipped across the back of his mind. His muscles tightened, shifting his frame from restless to predatory before he fully processed the sensations. Danger? No. He didn’t feel threatened, only unsettled.
“Hey Angie, are the scones ready to go out?”
A voice, warm and calm, flooded through him, driving away the unease. A cool, fresh scent like a summer morning on the water quickly followed, invading his senses and eclipsing the familiar aroma of Angie’s baking.
Braden swung around, eyes tracking the young woman walking through the kitchen door. She paused when she spotted him, eyes darting to Angie.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.” She glanced back toward him, shifting from foot to foot.
Angie spoke up. “Nonsense, ignore him. Scones are cooling on the counter.”
“Thanks, Angie.”
Braden’s eyes never left the woman as she passed him. His frenzied senses focused exclusively on her, leaving such a complete impression he doubted he could ever forget it.
Temptation to step up behind her burned through him.
Was her skin as soft as it looked?
He imagined the feel of it beneath his fingers as he trailed them across her neck, skimming along the alluring curve of her spine. Would she arch into him, offering that full bottom lip for him to savor to his satisfaction? The intimate details of how she’d move beneath him as he fastened his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder seared his mind.
It took all of his willpower to pull back from the fantasy playing out in his thoughts. Restless and uncomfortable, he poured the rest