Page 116 of Broken Pact

It’s a perfect night.

53

JASPER

Coraline Carter is drunk.

Okay, so she’s not fall down drunk. But she’s definitely tipsy. She’s giggly and so fucking handsy. Hawke’s drunken commentary from my backseat only egged her on too.

Not that I’m complaining. I don’t think I’ll ever complain about my girl running her hands all over me. It’s just real fucking unfortunate that I can’t return the sentiment when I’m driving us home.

I pull my truck into the garage, the headlights illuminating the dark interior. Coraline giggles as I put it in park, her hand sliding up my thigh. I catch her wandering fingers, bringing them to my lips for a kiss.

“C’mon you two, quit making out and let’s get inside,” Hawke says as he gets out of the car. “I’m starving.”

“Pfft. I’ll show you making out,” she grumbles.

I hop out of my truck, round the front, and lift my girl out. “You tell him, baby.”

Her pout splits into a grin then, and she pushes onto her toes. She kisses the corner of my mouth and throws her arms around my shoulders. I palm the back of her thighs and lift her up. Legs wrapped around my waist, I carry her into the house.

Pudding meows the second I kick the back door closed with my boot.

“Pudding,” she exclaims, twisting to look at him twirl between my legs. “We’re back, you fluffy little meatball. Did you miss us?”

Pudding meows like he’s responding.

“Of course we missed you,” she assures the cat.

Laughter slips out as I walk into the kitchen. It kills me when she talks to him like he has any idea what she’s saying. And then when he meows back. I can’t tell you how many times I walked in on them having a whole ass conversation over the last few weeks.

I set my girl on the counter, the same spot that I ate that pretty pussy of hers for breakfast a couple mornings ago. She drums her fingers on the countertop, a smirk twisting those perfect lips of hers to the side. Yeah, she knows exactly what I was thinking.

Hawke’s bent over, rummaging in the fridge. “Damn, bro. You’ve got like an epic dessert selection.” He pokes his head out from the side. “Perks of dating a baker, yeah?”

“Don’t even think about eating those strawberry shortcakes, asshole.” He ate half the plate when Coraline brought them to the clubhouse last month. I didn’t even get to taste a bite of them.

“Alright, everyone grab a dessert and a drink and meet me in the living room,” Coraline says, hopping off the counter. “Let’s play a game.”

My brows lift as I follow my girl into the living room, the strawberry shortcake container already in my hand. “A game, hm? What did you have in mind, baby?”

She flashes me a mischievous grin over her shoulder. “Truth or dare. Or never have I ever? I don’t know—something fun and silly.”

Hawke trails behind us, his arms laden with an assortment of Coraline’s desserts. “I’m down for whatever as long as I get to eat these,” he says, plopping down on the chaise section of the couch. “Even if we played these games in high school.”

Coraline reaches over and snatches the pie plate of key lime cheesecake from Hawke. “You talk shit, you lose desserts.”

Hawke rears back, his brows sinking low over his eyes and his hand flying up to protect the rest of his haul. “Damn, Carter, okay.”

I grab some flavored alcoholic seltzer waters, regular water bottles, and a few beers from the mini beverage fridge in the corner of the living room. The glass bottles clink together as I carry them over, setting them on the coffee table.

“Okay,” she says with a clap, looking at me. “Since it’s your house, you get to pick the game.”

I collapse back into the couch, throwing my arm across her shoulders and pulling Coraline closer against my side as I consider our options. “Alright, let’s do truth or dare.” Could be interesting. And fuck it, maybe I’ll pull a few truths from her.

Coraline grins, tucking her legs underneath her and leaning into me. “Okay, who wants to start?”

Hawke pops open a beer and takes a swig before holding up his free hand. “I’ll go first.”

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