Page 22 of Playoffs & Promises

"And you?" He says. "Do you get hurt a lot with baking?"

"Only when I'm too impatient and grab the hot pans." I pull the sleeve of my jacket to the side to show a burn on my wrist.

"Can I confess something?" Lou asks.

"Absolutely," I say, grateful for the distraction he's offering.

"I hate lemons."

My jaw drops. "But you love lemon bars?"

"We're in a love-hate relationship," he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. "That's something I learned from a romance novel."

"Explain."

"I like reading." He wiggles his eyebrows. "I even joined a book club."

"Good for you." My mind is still stuck on the lemon thing. "What do you mean you hate lemons?"

"I don't want to get into it right now."

"Fine." I begrudgingly agree. He doesn't really owe me more, it's not like we're really friends or anything. "What fruit do you like then?"

"Raspberries."

As we continue walking, and talking about everything from work to Cinnamon and the rescue he helps with, the tension between us shifts, softening into something new. Something I definitely don't understand.

Eight

LOU

The team is winning this season, but it isn't because of me. I've accepted my fate without Maria's lemon bars, and it doesn't seem to matter how many lemons or lemon desserts I try, none of them work. I've tried the other bakeries in the city, including the grocery store kind, and it's all to no avail.

"For a guy that's on a losing streak, you're surprisingly chipper," Alexis tells me as she checks out my knee.

I shrug, then wince as she touches a tender spot.

"Does it have anything to do with a fuzzy dog staying at your place?" she asks and prods at another spot.

The thought of Cinnamon makes me smile. "How'd you know?"

"Gabby."

Of course. The two of them are close. "You two like to gossip about me?"

"Not usually, but Gabby worries about her dog."

"Her dog?" I ask.

Alexis gives me an assessing look. "As long as the rescue is on the paperwork, it's her dog. You going to do something about that?"

"Not fair to the dog."

"Right, because having a human all to herself that loves and spoils her isn't fair."

"How do you know I spoil her?"

Alexis pointedly looks down at where I've set my phone on the bench beside me. On the lock screen is a picture of Cinnamon in her red Christmas sweater vest in the back seat of my Jeep on Christmas day. There's a small pile of dog toys next to her.

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