I glance at the time. Ten minutes until closing. My pulse quickens. Every day my heart plays this weird game where it can’t decide if it wants Sean to show up, or if it wants to be right.
Grady leaves and I wave him off, he likes to be gone before Sean comes. I can’t blame him.
Something dings and my heart takes off in my chest before I realize it’s only my phone and my dad with his hourly check-in. I type in a quick response telling him I’ll lock up early tonight in hopes he won’t make an unwanted stop in. So far he and Sean haven’t crossed paths again, but that luck is bound to run out soon.
My phone rings and I roll my eyes, expecting to see my dad calling to double-check what time I’ll be home, but it’s Monica.
“Hey,” I say, swiping open the FaceTime call and propping my phone up on the work table in front of me.
“Have you won yet?” she asks immediately, and again I wonder why I even told her about the dumb bet.
Four minutes. He’s late. “I just might.” My stomach feels uneasy, but this is a good thing, right?
“Dang. I was rooting for him.” She takes off her blue light glasses and cleans them on her sleeve.
“I thought you were on my team.”
“I am. And part of being on your team is recognizing what could be good for you.”
“And you think that’s Sean?” I scoff.
“There’s very little an attractive man cannot fix.”
“You’re telling me.” I look around my nearly updated kitchen while rolling out dough. I figure I owe Sean at least a couple hundred dollars for the labor, a couple more for the new parts, and a…couple thousand for the number of times I’ve checked him out while he works. He’s got the kind of corded forearm muscles that only a man who works a physical job can acquire. And he’s got a small tattoo on his bicep that I’ve caught a glimpse of, but not the full thing.
“Maybe…you should let him fix your dating life now,” Monica interrupts my thoughts.
“Monica!”
“Girl you’ve been glued to that shop since you signed the lease on it.”
I open my mouth to protest but she cuts me off. “Which is not a bad thing. But since I’m not there to remind you to take a break now and then and have fun, who better than a man with a hot bod and zero inhibitions.”
“Agreed.”
I jump at the voice thatdid notcome from my phone and fling a glob of dough at my chest. It tumbles down the gap in my apron as my body turns to fire, the debilitating kind that’s destroying me torturously slow. The fire only burns hotter I see the electric look in his eyes.
“She’s got a point,” Sean grins. “On both accounts.”
“Is that him?” Monica asks. I forgot she was on the phone and while I’m diving for the dough in my apron Sean scoops up my phone and angles it at his face.
“Hey Monica, how are you?”
“Sean! Long time no see.”
“We’ll have to remedy that after I steal London away for some fun,” Sean says.
Forget about the dough. I lunge for my phone but he rounds the opposite side of the island.
“You have my permission to take her away from all the baking she thinks she needs to do.”
Sean’s eyes fly to mine, mischief in those hazel irises. “Do I have permission to use force?”
“Yes.”
“Excuse me! I can hear you.” I chase after Sean but he’s quicker and keeps the island forever between us.
“So kidnapping is on the table?” Sean stops. And I register the moment he shifts from prey to predator. My heart picks up speed as he walks toward me. Now I’m the one running away.
