“I told you no more fixing.”
“I uh, need to fix…” I have no clue.
She steps up beside me. “If you’re going to be here, you can help me bake.”
“Really?” My brows must be halfway up my forehead right now. “Youwantmy help?”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“Never.”
Chapter 21
London
Seanisaterriblebaking assistant. He would never make it in the industry. Or my kitchen because he’s causing me stress. More ingredients are on the outside of the bowl than on the inside. When I tell him to measure a cup, he scoops up a heaping cup full of brown sugar without packing it and drops it into the bowl.
However, he looks downright sexy in the bright pink apron I offered him. He didn’t even bat an eye; just put it over his head with a wink that made my heart flutter.
I thought I was starting him off easy with gingerbread cookies I’d planned to sell tomorrow. But no one will be paying for these.
“What’s the story behind today’s sticker?” Sean asks, cracking an egg.
Did an eggshell just fall in there?Look away.
I glance down at the heart-eye emoji currently decorating my prosthetic. My cheeks burn. “There’s not always a story behind the sticker,” I lie. Every morning I pick one that fits my mood for the day. And yes, maybe our date was a tad romantic and I was still thinking about it this morning.
“But there’s a story behind this one, right?”
I turn around to see him pouring salt into the bowl. That looked like way more than the required amount. “Do your carvings tell a story?” I open the door to the sugar cabinet to reveal the tiny carving there.
He looks at me, a kind of reckless passion in his eyes. “Yes.”
I blink and face the cabinet again. What was I looking for? “Well, they are definitely… something. Just do me a favor and don’t quit your day job yet.”
I feel more than see him step up behind me. I feel the heat of his chest as it brushes my shoulder, and shudder with the warmth of his breath on my neck.
“But I thought you were hiring.” His lips are next to my ear and I feel the ghost of his hand on my hip.
I swallow. “Sorry, all positions have been filled.”
“Really? I could have sworn there was one opening left for the man who gets to hold your hand.”
“I’ll consider your qualifications.”
“All I’m asking for is a chance.”
I feel every word in my heart.
“Now come on, stop dilly-dallying, I don’t work for free.” He pats my butt with the wooden spoon, the tension shifting from deep to playful in half a second.
“That’s literally what you’ve been doing for the last three weeks.”
He grins. “That’s because I have a thing for the boss.” He turns the stand mixer on and powder flies everywhere. I rush forward to shut it off.
“I’ve changed my mind, you’re fired." I take the sugar bowl and put it away then go back for the flour.
“Why?"
