Moore, Gigi - Desiree's Lone Wolves [The Double R, Book 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Gigi Moore

to Desiree, then said, “If the lady says it’s all right, you can have a piece of…” he paused here, giving her a meaningful glance, “her authentic Louisiana pecan pie, Miller.”
    Miller rubbed his hands together and licked his chops. “Sounds like a good deal.”
    Thank goodness for Miller! Alone with Carson, Desiree had started to contemplate some decidedly unwise possibilities. After all, what could exist between the two of them?
    Now Desiree had something entirely different to focus on than her lust, yet she remained anxious. Carson had made his pronouncement as if her pie were the best thing since sliced bread and she feared that it wouldn’t live up to his buildup.
    She pulled back the linen cloth further and Miller didn’t hesitate to reach in and scoop out a piece with the spatula that was inside.
    He took a hearty bite of the pie and began humming as he closed his eyes.
    After several moments of watching the rapturous look on the man’s face, Desiree couldn’t take the suspense anymore. “Well? How is it?”
    “Huh?” Miller opened his eyes to glance from Desiree to Carson and back again as if coming out of a trance. “I thought you knew from my humming and the look on my face.”
    Desiree laughed as Carson swatted at Miller’s head with his Stetson while Miller ducked and dodged, laughing as he left the two of them alone again.
    “Hits the spot right nice after a shootout!” he said over his shoulder.
    “I feel bad now that I didn’t bring some lemonade or something else to wash this down with,” Desiree said.
    “Next time.” Carson clapped and rubbed his hands like Miller and Sam had before him and reached in for a piece of the pie.
    Desiree’s heart pounded with his inference that there would be a “next time” as well as the idea that he was about to bite into something she had made with him and his brother especially in mind.
    She was treading in risky waters and berated herself for bringing attention to herself unnecessarily. Things had been simpler when he’d thought her an annoyance to be avoided and she’d avoided him for self-preservation. Now he’d touched her, made her feel real, and she had nothing to offer him beyond a damaged shell.
    What healthy, red-blooded man wanted to deal with her kind of baggage? She didn’t even want to deal with it half the time, but she had no choice.
    Carson paused with the pie to his mouth. “If this is as good as your flan, don’t be afraid when you see my eyes roll up in my head like Miller’s. Just know I’m not having a seizure.” He took a bite before Desiree could reply and immediately closed his eyes as he began to chew.
    She was glad, as it gave her a chance to admire him without being watched by those green laser-beam eyes that didn’t miss a thing.
    The sun revealed the red highlights in his longish black hair, softening the appearance so much her fingers itched with the desire to run through it. Shaking her head, she moved her gaze farther down to his lightly tanned face, taking in the strong, sculpted jaw and the contrasting sight of long, lush lashes just brushing his cheekbones.
    Desiree paused at his throat, the slight expanse of skin exposed by the two undone buttons at his collar. She looked at the pulse beating in his neck, surprised by the overwhelming urge to put her lips against it, the hunger that demanded she suck and nibble his neck— mark him— as she ran her hands over the hard-muscled breadth and curves of his torso.
    He was beautiful, not handsome but beautiful. Desiree broke out into a cold sweat when she realized that she and he were alone. She had been trying to avoid being alone with him earlier, but now it was a condition she gladly settled into. She liked the privacy even if they were outside and in the open and anyone could walk by. They stood so close and in each other’s personal space that it gave her the illusion they were all alone in the world. She felt like she could trust Carson Quarry with