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“Buffy was just leaving,” Hilly stated, daring her friend to contradict her.
“And I’ll be right behind,” Mrs. S agreed. “Hilly, everything is in here, and it will stay warm until you’re ready to eat. There’s a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, spinach in cream sauce with a pine nut topping, and glazed baby carrots.”
“Yumm,” Buffy bent over the bag and sniffed. “Dessert?”
“Warm apple pie,” Ellen grinned and addressed Hilly. “I was hoping you have vanilla ice cream in your freezer.”
“I do, actually,” Hilly smiled, then looked at her watch. “And I hate to boot you both out, but Cisco, a man of definite habit, will be here in exactly fourteen minutes, so you need to scoot.”
“Bye sweetie.” Mrs. S breezed out with Buffy on her heels. Together, as if they’d planned it, they chimed: “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”
Hilly laughed as the door closed behind them.
It was wonderful having such good friends, and their irreverence had eased her nerves enough so that when she glanced into her room and eyed the silk laying there, she shrugged. Fuck it. She followed Buffy’s advice, took off her clothes and rapidly donned her provocative finery.
It was now going to be all or nothing.
She hoped it was “all”.
Cisco pulled his bike into the camp lot, removing his helmet and letting his body relax. It had been a long-ass Friday. There’d been a couple car accidents where the people involved had been combative, an altercation between some students at the high school that had required his arbitration, and a short SWAT call-out involving a father who’d taken his four-year-old daughter—of whom he didn’t have custody—out for a picnic lunch without telling her mother.
They’d all ended well, then Opal and Nolan had called in with a report of finding Marty Smittfield. Mason and Welker had come to collect Cisco at the station, and they’d gone to find the man, drunk out of his gourd, in a rooming house two towns over. They’d arrested his ass, and it had felt damned good to finally put an end to Hilly’s threats.
Cisco would, eventually, find the proper time to tell Hilly that Marty was behind bars, but for now, he needed to put all work and criminal activity out of his brain because he felt drained. The only thing that had kept him going throughout it all, was the thought of seeing Hilly tonight, and getting to be with her, 24/7, for an entire weekend.
He swung his leg over the seat and dusted off his dirty boots with a deliberate swish of his hand. He needed a shower, and food, in that order, then he’d convince Hilly to settle down in front of the camp’s Friday night bonfire, where he’d ease her off to the side and attempt to propose again.
But this time he was determined to get lucky. He had ammunition. The ring he’d ordered made for Hilly had finally come in at the jewelers earlier that day, and the velvet box now lay nestled in an interior pocket in his leather jacket, just waiting to make an appearance. Cisco couldn’t help his suddenly elevated mood, and he whistled as he approached the cabin. If all went well, the ninth time asking would be a charm, and Hilly would officially be his fiancé before the night was over.
Huh. It was odd, though. Normally when Hilly heard him drive up, she was waiting for him on the porch. He knew she’d been going farther and farther afield this week, resuming some of her duties around camp as she healed, but she’d never lost track of time before.
His heartbeat picked up. Maybe she’d had a relapse.
Cisco didn’t wait around speculating. He dashed to the cabin, up the one step, crossed the small porch, and was inside in a flash. He blinked a few times for his eyes to adjust, and?—
Cisco’s jaw fell slack.
“Hilly?” Was that his voice that had just cracked?
Uh, yeah. And he knew why. His woman was standing in the shadowed room, flickering candles all around, with romantic music playing somewhere in the background. But it was what Hilly was…or wasn’t wearing that had Cisco practically drooling.
It was two, no three small bits of material in a deep forest green, attempting to cover all her luscious lady parts.
“Do you like it?” she asked, doing a slow spin. As she presented her back, Cisco’s hands twitched to follow the thin strip of material that disappeared between her ass cheeks.
“Like it?” Cisco rasped; his throat suddenly tight. “I love it. And you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Then come here and prove it to me,” she purred.
Cisco took one step forward, then groaned. He remembered why this was a bad idea. His brows drew together and he sighed unhappily. “You’re still recovering, Hilly. We can’t take any chances that?—”
“It’s my body, Cisco,” she responded with certainty. “And I’m not in pain anymore.” To entice him further, she placed her hands beneath her silk-clad breasts, and raised them up, slipping her thumbs over her hard nipples in the process.
Cisco moaned. “You’re not playing fair, Hilly.”
“And you haven’t been playing at all,” she returned sharply. “I’m through waiting, Cisco. And if you won’t take care of me, I’ll take care of myself.”
One hand smoothed slowly down from her breast, to slip beneath the small triangle of green.