Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“I’ll bring an application to you, baby,” he said.
“Cool. Oh, and strap in, Hutch. Your knowledge about wildlife rescue and commitment to it is a massive turn on. I’m gonna suck your cock so good, you’ll be ruined for other women.”
His cock paid attention.
His heart squeezed.
His gut clenched.
But he forced his lips to smile. “Something to look forward to.”
“You better believe it,” she promised, stretching her seatbelt so she could land a kiss on his jaw.
For some reason, where her lips landed burned.
And it did it in a way he hoped that sensation would never fade.
But as he drove, it did.
Because something he’d learned in life.
The good shit always did.
He’d dropped Mabel and gone home to get Hannibal, so Mabel’s living room turned into a playroom of tug of war, fetch and kid versus dog play-wrestling while Mabel insisted he, Brett and Abigail sit at her island and drink beer while she futzed in the kitchen, also drinking beer, but doing it sorting dinner.
Though, there wasn’t a lot to be done, because she got the beef stew in the slow cooker that morning, so Hutch had yet again walked into a house that smelled like heaven.
The kids’ and dogs’ laughter, giggles and play growls competed with the soft rock Mabel put on. Conversation flowed. And plenty of mirth was had at the island too.
Since Mabel didn’t have a dining room table, when dinner was served, Brett and Abigail set the kids up on the floor at the coffee table while the adults ate at the island. Mabel and Hutch gave their dogs orders so the kids could eat without the dogs getting in their space and begging. And Abigail didn’t miss that Mabel had both biscuits and whole grain rolls in her breadbasket, a choice of white or cauliflower rice for a base, and only one of their party selected the healthier options.
Hutch didn’t miss it either.
Nor did he miss that Mabel didn’t make a big deal of it.
Or any deal of it.
He didn’t cook with Bree, he only ate with her. Even so, she didn’t hesitate to give him shit, mostly around the times she let herself “cheat,” and she hated to do that alone, so she nagged him to do it with her.
But Molly and Danielle both had tons to say about what a huge pain in the ass it was to cook healthier.
Hutch wasn’t the kind of man to make a woman cook for him as he liked it, and she either had to deal with it and eat like he ate or cook two meals. He could cook for himself, didn’t mind it, and was good at it.
But watching Mabel, it was the first time he noticed that it actually wasn’t that big of a deal.
You steamed some cauliflower rice, you offered two types of bread, and you made a main that was tasty that everyone would like.
She did that when she roasted her chicken, too.
She ate the skin.
He didn’t.
She smothered hers in gravy.
He didn’t.
The end.
Another thing he didn’t miss was that he was being evaluated by Abigail.
He didn’t mind. Good friends were good friends, that was part of the job of being a good friend, and he was glad Mabel had a friend like that close.
But he and Mabel were adults. She was the most together woman he’d met.
And Abigail didn’t know that Hutch had his finger firmly on that pulse, not so he could instigate damage control, but so he could manage it so there was minimal to no damage.
She’d learn.
He hoped.
He was so in it, and so at one with it, when Mabel pulled the chocolate pudding cake out of the oven and scooped that decadence out with a mound of ice cream on top, the scent of chocolate was so strong, it permeated the entire cabin.
It also created the first situation since he’d faced a homemade cinnamon roll that Nadia had made over a year ago.
Thus, Hutch had broken form by saying, “Small bowl for me,” when Mabel was asking for orders.
And again, he didn’t miss she didn’t speak word one.
Sure, she cocked her head to the side, gave him a look and a small smile, but nothing so big she’d bring attention to him, and definitely she shoveled no shit his way.
She just dished that goodness up.
And it was so fucking good, he wanted to do what Emma did.
Shove his face in the bowl and lick it clean.
It was a great afternoon. A great evening. Kids around. Dogs happy they had kids around. Music playing. And Moxie had all sorts of stuff to keep her eye on.
He felt he passed a test when Abigail gave him a tight hug before she got in their truck.
And it felt nice to stand on the porch with his arm around Mabel’s shoulders, hers around his waist, as she waved them into the dark.