Page 28 of Howling for Cupcakes

Something in his tone, soft and sincere, made Mari’s breath catch. She stopped walking, turning to face him fully. His eyes met hers, the moonlight casting them in shades of silver and green.

“Thank you, Arden. For everything.” She reached out, twining her fingers with his. “For being here, for believing in me, for making me feel like I matter.”

Arden lifted her hand wrapped in his to his lips, his touch achingly gentle. “You do matter, Mari. So damn much. To me, to Molly, to this whole crazy, wonderful town.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. “I know we’re still figuring this thing out between us, but I need you to know...you’re it for me. You’re my forever.”

Tears pricked at the back of Mari’s eyes, her heart so full it felt ready to take flight. “Arden...”

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” He brushed a kiss to the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “I just wanted you to know where I stand. Where I’ll always stand.”

They started walking again, hands still clasped, a comfortable silence settling between them. As they rounded the corner onto her street, Arden cleared his throat.

“So, I was thinking...maybe we could do this again sometime? Just the two of us?” His thumb rubbed absently over her knuckles, betraying his nerves. “I mean, I love our group hangs, don’t get me wrong, but I’d really like another chance to wine and dine you properly. Show you off a bit, you know?”

Mari’s pulse quickened as a playful smile danced across her lips. The warmth in her chest unfurled, spreading through her body like a sip of fine whiskey, smooth and intoxicating.

“Why, Deputy Flynt,” she purred, a hint of playfulness in her voice, “are you trying to get me all to yourself?”

Arden’s grin turned roguish, his green eyes glinting with promise. He stepped closer, the heat of his body enveloping her like a cozy blanket on a cold night. The spicy, masculine scent of his aftershave made Mari’s head swim in the most delicious way.

“Guilty as charged, Ms. Sinclair,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent tingles racing down her spine. “I’ve been thinking about stealing you away for a night of wining and dining. Just the two of us, no interruptions, no distractions...”

Mari arched a brow, trying to ignore the way her heart stuttered at his proximity. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind for this hypothetical night of ours?”

Arden’s smile turned downright sinful. “Well, I thought we could start with dinner at that new tapas place in the town over. I hear their sangria is to die for.” He reached out, tracing a finger along the delicate skin of her wrist. “Then maybe we could take a walk along the river, find a quiet spot to stargaze and... talk.”

The way he said talk, low and intimate, made heat coil low in Mari’s belly. She licked her lips, noting with a thrill how Arden’s eyes tracked the movement.

“That sounds...nice,” she managed, her voice coming out breathier than intended. “Very nice, actually.”

Arden’s smile softened, his hand drifting up to cup her cheek. His palm was warm, slightly rough with calluses. Mari couldn’t resist nuzzling into his touch, just a little.

“Is that a yes, then?” he asked, his thumb stroking along the arch of her cheekbone.

Mari’s heart swelled, a rush of affection mingling with the simmering heat in her veins. She turned her head, pressing a lingering kiss to Arden’s palm.

“Yes,” she murmured against his skin. “I’d love to go out with you again, Arden. Tapas, sangria, stargazing...the whole package.”

Arden’s grin was a blindingly bright, boyish delight and smug satisfaction mingling in the curve of his mouth. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he purred, his voice a dark caress. “You keep saying yes to me like that, and I might start getting ideas.”

A shiver rippled through Mari, desire a molten ache in her core. She tilted her head back, meeting Arden’s heated gaze with a challenge in her own.

“Maybe I want you to get ideas,” she breathed, feeling bold and reckless and alive. “Maybe I’ve got a few ideas of my own.”

Arden growled, actually growled, the sound vibrating through Mari like a plucked guitar string. His hand slid into her hair, fingers flexing against her scalp.

“Careful what you wish for, Ms. Sinclair,” he warned, his eyes glittering with unnamed promises. “I bite.”

Mari grinned. “Promise?”

The groan that tore from Arden’s throat was positively indecent. He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped, nipping at her bottom lip. “But, gods, what a way to go.”

Mari laughed, the sound bright and carefree in the moonlit street. She looped her arms around Arden’s neck, pressing the length of her body against his.

“Not if I have anything to say about it, Deputy,” she purred, rubbing her nose playfully against his. “I’ve got plans for you. Big, big plans.”

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