“All done,” he says.
“Really?” I put the filling in the fridge and follow him out front.
“This is even better than the last one,” I say, running my hand along its glass top.
“I figured you needed a better one to hold all the orders you’re going to get.”
I roll my eyes. “If you haven’t noticed, I have leftovers every day.”
He seems to perk up at this. “Like what?”
“Come on,” I motion for him to sit at the bar. He showed up just after four and it’s nearly nine now. “You look hungry.”
“Starving.”
That one word sets my heart racing and I open the small freezer to cool myself down.
“She’s beautiful, your mom,” Sean says. “You look just like her.”
My hand hovers over the tray of ice cream cupcakes but can’t seem to grab any. My dad has told me so on many occasions, but it’s different coming from Sean. My pulse is on fire, reading into his compliments more than I should.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Thanks.” I grab the tray and pull the entire thing out.
“I noticed a sticker on her arm as well.”
He saw that? I busy myself by searching through the cupcakes for the best-looking one. “Yeah, she uh, started that tradition with me.”
“I like it.”
My heart is beating so loud I barely hear him. I place a cupcake I’ve deemed perfect in front of him then wipe my hands on my apron.
“How do you make all this stuff?” Sean says, studying my shop and me like we are part alien.
I lift a shoulder. “How do you make cabinets?”
“Cabinets are easy. These?” He picks up the ice cream cupcake and takes a bite. “Wait, is that ice cream?“ He closes his eyes with a groan and takes another bite. I watch him, suddenly very hungry myself. I pick up one and pinch off a small bite, taking time to savor the flavors.
I cringe. “I put too much salt in the cupcake batter.”
His eyes pop open. “Absolutely not. These are heaven.” He grabs another one to prove it and bites half of it. Ice cream is smeared on the corner of his lips. I itch to wipe it away, but I keep my hand pressed to my side. “You could win one of those baking shows.“
This man and his ridiculous compliments. It's getting out of control. I need him to leave.
“Shouldn’t you be out chain-sawing something?”
His head rears back. “What?”
“I feel like you’re trying to turn my life into a Hallmark movie, and if I’m the baker then you must be the bearded mountain man.”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I could grow my beard out.”
“Is that all you got out of that?”
“No, I got the part where you want to create a Hallmark romance with me. Personally, I don’t care for Hallmark, but I could get behind this story, especially because you think I’m a sexy lumberjack—”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Now I’m trying to figure out if a beard will improve my chances.”
