Page 47 of The Hot New Single Dad Next Door

“The longest.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

We kiss again and I tremble, fully submitting myself to his embrace as his arms curl around me. “Well, it’s over now and you’re just in time,” I say.

“For what?” he asks.

“For mini muffins.”

His eyes widen. “Mini muffins?”

I peck his cheek and step back. “I was about to make you a batch for date night.”

“Well, go!” He gives me a little shove toward the back. “Let’s get baking!”

I head toward the kitchen as Scott excitedly follows. Gathering the ingredients, I get to work, happy for his company. “So, what was long about your day?” I ask him.

“Oh, you know. People got hair. I chop it off.”

I laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re jaded already.”

“Nah,” Scott says, his voice a little closer behind me. “There’s just something far more interesting in front of me now.”

His arms snake around my waist, and he kisses my neck. I hum with delight as I place the liners in the muffin pan. “Careful,” I warn playfully. “You’re gonna make me make a mess.”

“That’s the idea,” he whispers, chuckling.

I turn my head to kiss him, hoping to soothe him, but he holds me closer, kisses me harder.

“Two minutes,” I say, inching him back. “And I’m all yours.”

“Or I can have you now,” he says.

“Two minutes,” I repeat, bobbing my head at the container by the door, “and you can have a leftover muffin while you wait.”

Scott sighs reluctantly, then releases me. “Blast,” he says. ”You know I can’t resist your baked goods.”

I laugh as he goes, grabbing my muffin mix and filling the cups while I still can.

“Mmm!” Scott hums deliciously.

I grin, always happy to hear that.

“Uh... Lottie?”

“Yeah?”

“You made these?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because there’s something metal in it.”

“What?”

I drop what I’m holding as I spin around, my stomach falling. Dread fills my chest; the end of my career as I know. The end of my dream, before it even really began. In the span of a second, I think over my day, wondering when it happened, trying to picture what I could have possibly dropped into the batter. How many others were contaminated? And how many of them did I sell?

“Let me see!” I ask, lurching toward him.

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