All signs point to yes, but I’m not about to offer him that kind of leverage. Teaching him to bake would mean spending more time together and… I’m not sure I can trust him. I’d rather save us both the heartache now.
“Goodnight, Sean.”
He stands, retrieves his tools then pauses at the door, looking back at me. “You’re not leaving?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t like the idea of you being here alone at night.”
Him and the other man in my life.
“And you assume I’d be safer with you here?”
His smile grows into something so tempting it makes my skin break out with goosebumps. Annoyance, that’s all it is.
“I didn’t say that at all.”
His insinuations, whatever they may be, mixed with his deep voice are giving me heart palpitations.
I need to get rid of him. For good this time.
“Thank you for your help. I appreciate it.”
“Does that mean I’ve earned a kiss?” He pumps his brows.
“Don’t push it.” I pick up my rolling pin and wave it in the air.
He saunters backward slowly, his hands in the air.
“Just so you know, when you decide to kiss me, you’re safe with me.”
My face burns and I consider using the ice cream on top of the cupcakes to cool them. Nothing out of his mouth could be farther from the truth. No part of my heart would be safe with Sean.
“I’m not going to kiss you,” I scoff. I’m not planning on seeing him again after tonight. He fixed what he broke. His debt is paid. There is no reason for him to come to my bakery again. That’s what I thought last time, and a small part of me hopes I’m wrong once again.
Chapter 12
Sean
I’mearlytotheshop the next morning. I won’t say it never happens. But ever since my brother Michael became my boss, I’ve made a habit of annoying him with my lack of punctuality. I still get my work done. But a job is more fun if you can annoy your coworkers, right?
Perhaps that’s another area of my life I need to correct.
“Okay, who died?” Grant, my brother-in-law, says the second he sees me in the back room. We usually keep our personal projects here, which is why it would be strange to see me an hour before work because I don’t do personal stuff. Grant isalwaysdoing personal stuff. He made my nephew's crib, and dresser, a rocking chair for Lennox, and… I’ve lost track.
“No one,” I grunt. “I just need to work on something.”
He lifts a brow but doesn’t provoke me. Anyone else would, except Grant. “Okay. What are you working on?”
“Have you made any desks?”
“Yep.” He hits a board of wood on the work table. “I’m making one right now for your sister.”
“Man, does she ever let you off that leash?”
He raises a single brow. “Andwhois your desk for?”
“Can’t it be for me?”
