“So damned beautiful.” It was nothing but the truth.
He feasted. There wasn’t really any other word for it. One taste of her and he couldn’t get enough. No finesse, just hunger. Every sweet moan that fell from her lips made him want more.
No cupcake could possibly be as delicious as Quinn.
He gripped her hips as he teased her with his mouth more before adding his finger, moving inside her, finding what she liked, pushing her higher. Her breathing became harsher, her reaction dragging a groan out of him.
He didn’t stop until her body shook and her hands gripped his hair so tight it was almost painful. Didn’t stop until she called his name and jerked against him.
Didn’t stop until he was sure this would be her most memorable birthday ever.
Chapter Seven
He was here again. Quinn wasn’t going to act like that fact didn’t give her a thrill. Baby was sitting over in what she’d come to think of as his booth, since he’d been there pretty much every day she’d worked this week.
He always looked so damned sexy in that plain, white T-shirt. She’d never dreamed something so common, so basic, could be so mouthwatering.
How did he keep it so clean? There had to be grease and oil and other mechanic stuff that should get him dirty in the garage, right?
Just one of the many things she found herself thinking about while trying to keep from stammering like an idiot whenever those green eyes locked on hers.
His eyes were hungry.
Hungry in a way that only someone young, confident, and ...Baby could pull off.
Hungry in a way that said he remembered exactly what she’d looked like, smelled like, tasted like from the night of her birthday. And that he wanted more.
Everything about his look thrilled her. Made her heart gallop in her chest. Made her aware that no number of academic degrees could ever equip her to handle him.
A gorgeous redhead Quinn recognized as Violet, the Fancy Pants Bakery owner, was currently sharing his booth, talking with him. That had been happening all week. Not only was Baby a much beloved member of the Oak Creek community, but word had gotten out about his near-death experience at the Wild Wyoming Adventure Race.
Riley’s, too.
Damn it. Quinn knew she needed to talk to her brother about everything. But now wasn’t the time. Riley was busy with his own problems—a killer stalking him and the love of his life being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He had enough on his plate.
Right. That was why she wasn’t telling him. It had nothing to do with the fact she was broke, blacklisted from academia, and currently here in Wyoming rather than back in Cambridge.
It could wait a few more days.
She made it through the rest of another shift. It was a busy shift, good for money, and not so harrowing since she was finally getting the hang of waitressing. But she’d barely had a chance to talk to Baby.
Not that she’d be able to with his adoring fans hovering, all wanting to make sure he was okay after the WAR ordeal.
Quinn wasn’t upset, she really wasn’t. Despite his hungry look and what had happened on her birthday, she had no ties to him. The guy was still in his twenties—gorgeous, charming, and probably not the type to settle down with anyone—especially not Ms. Doesn’t-Quite-Fit-In-Anywhere. Not to mention she was twelve years his senior. Why would he want to saddle himself with a divorcée, pushing forty, softer around the middle than any of these twenty-somethings, no matter how much powerwalking she did?
She’d found two more gray hairs this morning as she was straightening her hair to pull it back in the bun. She’d plucked them immediately. But they’d be back.
She shouldn’t expect Baby to make too much time for conversation with her.
Which was why, when she dragged the trash out the back kitchen door into the alley and heard Baby’s voice, she let out a small screech.
“Need some help with that?”
She muttered a curse as she spun around, sending the stack of cardboard boxes she was carrying toppling to the ground around them. She picked one up and took the one he had reached down and grabbed, then spun toward the recycling bin near the street. “I’ve got this. Thanks.”
She heard his footsteps behind her. “I can’t stop thinking about you, you know.”
“Is that so?” She turned back around toward him, eyebrow raised. Realizing she was way too close to shrew-level, she toned it down a bit.