She whirled around. “Are you going to cook for me?” Her jaw was practically on the floor in delighted surprise. And he was ecstatic that he’d been able to put it there.
He’d never seen her like this, with an edge of vulnerability to her excitement. She was always firm and set in her opinions and statements. But not tonight.
Something was different tonight.
“Cole… I don’t know what to say.”
He stood by the door, admiring the way she reacted to every inch of the hut. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
She let out a gasp of awe. “Beautiful isn’t the word.” She traced the edge of the champagne bucket with her finger as she slowly spun in a circle. “And you did this for me?”
When she looked up at him, he nodded. Her eyes were filled with emotion. And tears. Penn, who didn’t cry over anything.
She joined him at the door, and he tugged her into an embrace, her back to his front. He wrapped his arms around her waist and breathed deeply. It wasn’t the fresh scent of the outdoors that infused him; it was Penn. Her lightness. Her unwavering support and belief in him.
He didn’t want to move. Ever. Even if a typhoon blew across the island, he wasn’t moving. Because here he was comfortable. And dare he say…happy. Once they stepped off that plane, there was no way of knowing if this feeling would last.
It was time he told his friend the truth. But first, he had dinner to make.
He headed to the table, grabbed the bottle of champagne, and opened it with a pop. Bubbles spilled out with a splat onto the floor as he filled two crystal glasses.
He held out a glass to her, then lifted his. “To good friends.”
Their glasses clinked.
“Hungry?”
She nodded and licked her lips. “Starving.”
The first thing he did was fire up the grill to get it nice and hot. Next, he made citrus marinade for the mahi-mahi. He squeezed the juice of an orange and lime, then combined it with oil, salt, cilantro, and some honey.
While she was delighted with the champagne, she must have noticed he hadn’t taken more than a few sips of his. “Ready for something stronger?” she asked.
“That’d be great.”
She mixed him a Jack and Coke and placed it near the grill for him. It was amazing that she always knew exactly what he liked, what he needed.
She shifted in her seat, searching for something on the ingredients cart.
“What, no dessert?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
She was smart to notice there was nothing on the tray to whip up for dessert. Little did she know, he’d arranged for a chocolate fondue to show up a bit later.
“I’m not sweet enough for you?” He grinned, but already knew the answer. His moods were far from sweet.
She slid out of her chair and sidled up to him. “Oh, you’re plenty sweet. And I’ll be indulging in that sweetness”—she leaned in and nibbled his earlobe— “a little later.” She bit down, and the twinge of pleasure-pain shot straight to his cock. “On second thought, why don’t we have a little taste test right now?”
She grabbed the champagne bottle and her glass, and walked over to the pillow bed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sexy sway of her hips.
That tiny red dress rode up her thighs and exposed the bottom of her ass cheeks when she bent over to set the champagne on the floor.
The hut had sliding shutters on three of its sides, and at that moment he was happy with his decision to keep only the main ones open. He didn’t want anyone getting a glimpse of her perfection, or catching them in the act, because every movement was on purpose. She even spread her legs a little to give him an eyeful of the black lace that covered her.
“We’re having mahi-mahi,” he said, trying to distract himself so he wouldn’t attack her on the spot. “With mango salsa.”
He started dicing the mango. The sweet smell of the fruit and the fresh tomatoes he’d chopped earlier wafted up and infused his senses. But she was pulling out all the stops to turn later into right now.
He did his best not to look at her ass and focus on cutting up the mango and red onion for the salsa, but she made it difficult to concentrate. He probably shouldn’t even be using a knife at the moment. He was liable to cut off one or more of his fingers. A trip to the emergency room was not how he wanted tonight to end.