Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
If he doesn’t let go soon, I might just jump over the counter and climb him like a tree.
But I keep my game face on. “I aim to please.” But my words come out embarrassingly breathless.
He finally gives in and takes the coffee, lips curving in that slow, devastating grin. “Worth every penny.”
My heart is somewhere in my throat as I box up the muffin, nestling it in tissue just for him. I could make a sex joke about muffins and cravings, but I don’t fully trust my tongue to form actual words right now. Instead, I push the box across the counter, fingers grazing his hand one more time, just because I can.
“Hope you like it extra sweet,” I murmur, voice lower than I intended. “I enhanced the recipe today.”
His eyes go dark and dangerous—totally bedroom territory. “I can’t wait to try…” he pauses long enough for my breath to catch in my throat, “your sweet new recipe.”
He tucks the muffin box under one arm and actually winks at me. “See you tomorrow, Cydney.”
Oh. My. God.
As he walks away, I can’t help it. I grab a napkin from the stack and fan myself, grinning like I just won the lottery. My legs feel wobbly, and my brain is stuck in a loop, replaying every single second of our interaction. I literally sag against the counter, dizzy with giddiness.
That man is a one-man crisis team for my self-control. I already want tomorrow to get here faster, just so I can see what “living dangerously” looks like when he really means it.
Before I can catch my breath, Tessa barrels over, her apron twisted in her fists, cheeks flushed, fanning herself like she’s about to combust right here in the kitchen. “Damn, it got hot in here really fast. Now I see why you’ve been so distracted.” Her eyes flick to mine, sharp and knowing.
“I’m in so much trouble here.” The confession echoes around us.
“Yes, you are.” Her grin slowly spreads across her freckled face. “The best kind of trouble.” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, fingers drumming against the stainless-steel counter in a rhythm that matches my racing pulse.
3
cydney
If I thought yesterday’s run-in with Oliver was a fluke, I was totally wrong.
Because 7:30 rolls around Wednesday morning, and right on the dot… there he is.
Today’s suit is light gray with a black shirt underneath that makes him look like he’s the world’s sexiest spy. When he turns slightly to hold the door open for an older woman, I spot the way his fitted pants hug his perfect rear end and almost swallow my tongue.
“Morning, Cydney,” he greets me, causing my hussy girly bits to wake up.
“Back for more?” I manage to mutter.
He leans on the counter, brows slightly raised. “Thought I’d try your pumpkin scones today. Unless you think there’s something more dangerous on the menu.”
“The scones are definitely dangerous…” I toss back, holding his gaze, and I swear he’s undressing me with his brain while I love every freaking second of it.
I pop his scone in the microwave, and the second I hit Start, Oliver leans in close. The heat from the machine is nothing compared to the way he’s looking at me. I swear, if he ever turned those eyes up to full power, I’d be the world’s first human puddle. I take a sip of my iced coffee, hoping to cool my jets a little.
“So, tell me,” he rumbles, folding those arms over his chest. “Where’d you get the name Gobble Me Up?”
I almost snort coffee out of my nose. The truth is, it wasn’t exactly a committee of geniuses.
“Let’s just say, Tessa and I weren’t marketing masterminds. After college, we knew we wanted a bakery, but every name we came up with was terrible. Like, genuinely horrifying. So, we bribed our families with cinnamon rolls to help us. We threw everyone’s suggestions in a hat and pulled one out.”
I place his warm scone into a box, grinning. “Tessa’s little brother’s idea won out. He was six, and honestly, the rest of us were just desperate for caffeine and sugar at that point.”
Oliver’s mouth tips into a full-blown smirk. “Gobble Me Up. I’m guessing you get a lot of interesting comments.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” I slide the box across to him, careful to brush his fingers with mine. Is it sad that this qualifies as the highlight of my entire week? Don’t care. “One time, a guy asked if we did private events. I think he was hoping for something a little spicier than cinnamon rolls.”
Oliver’s eyes darken like he’s imagining exactly what kind of private event I’m up for. “I bet you keep things interesting in here.”
I lean in, elbows on the counter. “Depends on what you’re hoping for, Mr. Burkhardt. I can be very accommodating.” It comes out way dirtier than I meant it, judging by the way his eyes darken.