fingers tightened and pulled me back against his body. “I always enjoy talking to you, Ophelia.”
“Not just talking,” I said, and I let go. I leaned against him, my eyes still closed, and tried to be braver than I knew I was. “You seem to like…more than just talking.”
He chuckled and it rippled through me. He eased his other arm around my middle, holding me tight and wrapped up in his arms, and kissed up my neck. “That’s very true. But only because you don’t mind.”
I didn’t. I really didn’t. My hands rested on his arms around my waist, holding him as he held me, and my head leaned back against his shoulder so his mouth could find my jaw and cheek as well. His palm pressed low on my stomach, igniting a simmering heat that threatened to consume me if I didn’t get control of myself.
Although... losing control with Henry didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
He nipped at where my neck joined my shoulder, and I reached up to touch his cheek, sliding my fingers into his hair. “You must be crazy. At least every other time you’ve touched me, I’ve blasted you with magic.”
“But the rest of the time, I very much enjoy touching you,” he said. I could feel his smile against my throat as he switched his attention to the other shoulder.
“Now I know you’re crazy,” I whispered. Not that I was going to tell him to stop.
“Maybe I like my women dangerous,” he said, his voice mostly growl.
I closed my eyes and turned in his arms so we were face-to-face and I could see the gold flashing in his eyes. He leaned in to trap me against the counter, then hiked me up so I sat on the edge and he could pull my hips to his. Henry grumbled and turned his attention to my breasts, one hand sliding under my shirt while he sucked on my earlobe. My hands worked into his hair and I tilted my head back as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “So I’m your woman now?”
Henry laughed and squeezed my butt, rocking me against him. “Well...”
A startled noise made us both look at the door. Fran, her face beet red, looked like she wanted to sink through the floor.
“I’m so sorry for…for disturbing you,” she whispered.
I managed to wriggle free from Henry’s embrace, though he didn’t seem perturbed by being discovered canoodling around the food, and cleared my throat a few times before I trusted myself to speak. “Oh, no problem. We were just… Uh, yeah. Did you need something?”
She didn’t look at Henry but instead focused on me like a lifesaver. “They said you might need help. I’d like to help.”
I definitely felt badly for her, dragged along in Nola’s wake. It was hard to imagine Fran having the courage to marry Henry all on her own, and harder still to imagine the two of them together.
Not that I had any right to try and figure out who Henry would end up with.
I nudged Henry out of the way so I could check the last chicken on the platter, though my legs wobbled as I tried to balance and move around. The man definitely knew how to distract me from everything else in the world. At least he kept safety in mind and had turned off the grill before he got serious about stealing my attention.
Henry mixed up the salsa, kind enough to turn his back so Fran didn’t quail under the power of his gaze. “Help would be great. The chicken is done. We just need to get everything to the table.”
She started gathering up the bowls of shredded cheese, grilled peppers and onions, tortillas, and sour cream and juggled them on her way to the door. Fran paused before she disappeared though, and whispered, “I’m glad you’re coming back to save the pack. It’s very kind of you.”
And then she was gone.
But I remained frozen next to the grill, frowning at the chicken. Henry added cilantro to the salsa, tasted it, and added more salt and lime. He hadn’t reacted to what she said. Maybe he hadn’t heard? Maybe it wasn’t true? I gnawed the inside of my cheek as I debated saying something. Was it even my place to ask what the hell she was talking about? I wasn’t really his mate; was I crazy to think I got a vote in whether he agreed to return to Montana?