Page 17 of Dirty Secret

It wasn't my sense of obligation or thoughts of Heidi's sweet smile that finally got me to knock, but the luscious smell of cinnamon that seeped through the cracks of her door.

Heidi was generous, could bake mouth-watering cookies, and dammit, she was funny, too. She's the best package wrapped with the sexiest bow.

The door opened. My breath left my lungs, and I feared it was lost, never to return.

She was sweet, achingly kind, and the more time I'd spent with her, the more I felt my heart being pulled by her sticky fingers.

Her hair was piled on her head in a sloppy bun and an adorable dot of flour topped her nose. As if on cue, Heidi's inviting grin appeared and this time, it hurt to watch. Was she expecting me? That couldn't be possible.

"Oh, hi, Max. I didn't think you were coming by today to work." She rubbed her hands together and flour clouded the air.

Perhaps she had known I was coming to confess. To torture me with freshly baked goods just out of my reach.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your morning."

I did my best to maintain eye contact, but she blushed while snorting a laugh and it was difficult to watch without curling my fingers through her careless hair.

She bit her lip before her hand reached toward me. "No bother at all. I just finished making cinnamon rolls. Why don't you come in, and I'll make you a plate?"

Rubbing my forehead, I had to focus on why I came here. "That's very kind of you, Heidi, but I think it's best—"

Her fingers brushed my upper arm, and it turned into an electric bolt between my legs. My mouth stopped working and Heidi's invisible string began to pull me inside. Before I knew it, the door had closed behind me and like a zombie—who instead of craving brains, wanted to lick her sticky sweetness—I walked helplessly into her kitchen and sat.

She puttered around the room and it warmed my heart to watch her wide, hopeful eyes as she placed a gooey, dripping cinnamon roll on a white plate before me.

"Did you make these yourself?" My mind couldn't grasp that someone wouldn't use the pre-made kind from the store.

"Of course." She held up her hand as if taking a pledge. "I cannot tell a lie, I'm a baked goods snob. If it isn't freshly made, then it isn't worth tasting."

My smile crooked as my insides battled.

"Baking was the one thing that brought my family together," she went on. "When I was growing up, my parents were rarely around. My brothers had sports and played video games, and I didn't have many friends. So, I hung out with our cook in the kitchen. She showed me how to bake brownies and cookies, and I once made a Baked Alaska."

Heidi laughed at the memory. "And when I would share the desserts with my family, it was the only time they laughed together and hung out. Not out of obligation like a birthday or a holiday, but because they all wanted to be there. I actually went to pastry school a few years ago, but never finished."

Now I felt worse. She was opening up to me. Talking about her passion, her family, and I am stealing from her. I was a monster. It was time I did what was right and stopped being swayed by her sweet treats.

"There's something I need to say." I pushed the plate away and turned my head to face her. "I lied."

Her brow crinkled in the most lovable way. "About what?"

"The plumbing job . . ."

Her eyes searched the room and landed on the sink. "So, I don't need to replace all the pipes?"

"No, that still needs to happen. But I exaggerated the cost."

She turned back to me. "By how much?"

"Twenty . . . uh, twenty thousand dollars."

Time stopped, and I held my breath. If ever anyone died by lightning bolt due to lying, now was the time it should strike me. The more I watched the shock and pain on her beautiful features grow, the more I wished that lightning strike would make an appearance.

Why did I believe confessing my lie would make me feel better? If anything, I felt so much worse.

"Wow. That's a lot of money. Was it a miscalculation?" She stepped toward me, leaning against her marble counter.

Look at her giving me an out. This woman was too wonderful to be true. And I'm the asshole that thought it was a good idea to take her money. I was the worst sort of person.

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