I hand a fresh coffee to a customer before wiping my hands on my apron and instinctively smoothing down my hair.
Sarge, leaning against the counter, scoffs. “You’re not seriously preening for him, are you?”
I untie my apron and hook it onto the kitchen door. “You’ll be fine for a few hours on your own?”
“Do I have a choice?” he grumbles, already irritated.
“Nope.” I grin sweetly and step away.
The door chimes, and Corbin walks in, wearing dark wash jeans and a fitted gray pullover that clings just right to his arms. A mistake. A mistake, because my insides melt instantly, heat flooding my chest as he runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. How is it possible that he’s even more handsome now?
And why does that make my heart ache?
“Morning,” Corbin greets, his cool blue eyes sweeping over me before flicking to Sarge. “And good morning to you, too.”
Sarge rolls his eyes and disappears into the kitchen.
“Ignore him,” I say, shifting my focus back to Corbin. “Thanks for picking us up. Tate’s been talking non-stop about going to the pumpkin patch today.”
“Mom is sewing my snake costume!” Tate jumps up and down beside Corbin. “She stayed up all night to get the head just right! You wanna see it?”
“It’s at home,” I interject before Corbin can answer. “And I didn’t stay up all night. Just until two a.m.”
Tate gives me an incredulous look, hands folded under his chin. “That’s basically all night.”
“Can you go wash the paint off yours hands?” I ask Tate, who begrudgingly trudges toward the bathroom.
Corbin chuckles, a rich, warm sound that sends a dangerous thrill straight through me. “I thought he wanted to be Spider-Man?”
I step closer before I can second-guess it, drawn in by the effortless warmth coming off his body. “He changed his mind last second. So, we made an emergency run to the fabric store. Since Halloween’s in three days, I’m devoting every spare second to it.”
Something shifts in Corbin’s expression, something soft, reverent. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do for our son?”
For some reason, that look gives me the confidence to move even closer, to press into his space. The corner of his mouth tugs up like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
His hand lifts, his thumb dragging gently across my cheek. “You have flour,” he murmurs.
I lean into his touch, just slightly, just enough to let myself feel it. “Comes with the territory.”
“This is a place of business,” Sarge’s sharp voice cuts through the moment.
Corbin’s hand falls from my face, and the absence is immediate. Sharp.
“If you want to do… whatever that was, do it somewhere else,” Sarge adds, looking two seconds away from losing his last shred of patience.
Corbin’s lips twitch. “Oh, we do, Sarge. We do.”
I laugh as Sarge’s left eye twitches. “Go away,” he grumbles, shaking his head.
Corbin steps even closer, his voice dropping just for me. “Come on, Jules, let’s go find somewhere else to do whatever it is we’re doing.”
Suddenly, it slams into me.
I’m falling.
All over again.
For the charming, laid-back, dangerously magnetic Corbin Banks.
