Page 24 of A Gift for the Hopeful Cowboy

She scoffed. “I do not.”

Rob gave her a pointed look and she let out a quiet laugh. “Like I told you,” he said, pulling her to her feet, “I’d rather focus on the time I get to spend with you than the past.”

What was that supposed to mean? Was he planning on leaving? Was this his way of saying he didn’t want anything more serious? She wanted to ask, but she was terrified the cat in this particular theoretical box would end up being confirmed as deceased.

Pippa took a deep breath, pushed aside the disappointment, and nodded. “Of course. Anything for you.”

The smile he gave her was just like the ones he’d given her when she’d gone to Rocky Ridge. He almost looked like himself. Maybe he was right. He simply wanted to vent about the decisions he’d made in his past and he didn’t want any solutions.

If that was what he wanted, then she could give it to him.

Rob slipped his hand into hers and nodded toward the rink. “How about we take a few more turns on the ice before hanging up our skates? I bet you won’t be able to keep up with me this time.”

As much as she wanted to linger on the information he’d given her, as much as she wanted to clarify what they were, she couldn’t. Would it be so bad to go along with the flow? It wasn’t like there were other guys banging down the door to spend time with her. And she liked Rob.

Okay, her feelings went deeper than that.

But Pippa was determined to enjoy the time she got to spend with Rob, too. Whatever that meant. She drank the last of her hot chocolate and tossed the empty cup into the nearby garbage can. “Only if you give me a head start.”

After Rob had wiped the floor with Pippa in the rink, they headed over to the restaurant where Pippa insisted on making him something sweet to eat. She commandeered a countertop and a stove, then put on her apron. There were only a few chefs left in the kitchen and the crowd had died down. Soon they’d be cleaning up and Pippa would be alone with Rob.

She could feel him watching her as she pulled the ingredients out and placed them at her station. He moved across from her and leaned his folded arms onto the counter.

“What are you gonna make for us?”

“It’s called bûche de Noël.”

He chuckled. “I’m not even going to try to pronounce that. What is it, exactly?”

“It’s a French chocolate cake that’s rolled up like a log. We can put whipped cream on the top or go without.”

Rob smiled. “I vote for the whipped cream.”

She matched his smile. “I thought you might.”

She spent the next forty-five minutes putting all the ingredients together, from the cake batter to the chocolate filling. Once it was in the oven, it only took fifteen minutes to cook.

As soon as it was done, she placed it on a towel and started to roll it up.

“Hold on, what are you doing with it?” Rob inched forward. “I’ve eaten a lot of cakes, but I didn’t think I’d be eating a towel.”

She laughed. This is how we’re going to get the log shape. We have to let it cool in the towel while it’s been rolled up before we put the filling in.”

“How long is that supposed to take?” He groaned with exaggeration.

“Thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes? That’s forever. What are we supposed to do while we wait?”

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “I might have a few ideas.”

Rob immediately understood where she was going with that statement. He rounded the side of the island slowly like a predator might stalk his prey. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Pray tell, what do you have in mind?”

She tilted her head slightly, glad they were finally alone. “Maybe you should tell me what you’re thinking.”

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