Page 37 of Forced Knocked-Up Mate

“Nothing,” Fiona answers, grinning. “Nothing at all.”

We all explode into very silly giggles, then gossip for a few minutes. It feels good to let go for a bit. By the time we’ve cleaned the front of the shop and served the last few customers, I feel like I’ve finished the day on a good note.

The girls wave goodbye as I shut the door behind them and lock it. The sun has just sunk behind the high ridge, and I’m looking forward to going home after such a long, hard day.

My head is full of thoughts of home as I push through the swinging door into the kitchen. I picture taking off my shoes and sitting back with my feet up so vividly I can almost feel it.

“Peter—”

Then I notice the kitchen.

There are mixing bowls all over the benches, full of various kinds of batter and dough. Sticky utensils litter every surface, and three of the ovens are still blazing. Not a single one of them has been cleaned, and there are piles of flour and scraps of burned butter under the doors.

As I approach the benches, I can see bags of chocolate chips torn open, jars of sprinkles knocked over with their contents scattered on baking trays, and random patterns of sugar and spices garnished on top of it all.

“Peter,” I say incredulously. “What the fuck have you done?”

“Huh?” he asks, coming out of the cool room. “Oh, hi. I thought I’d get a jump on tomorrow’s baking. What do you think?”

I think I’m looking at worse chaos than when the last asteroid hit the earth and plunged us into the Ice Age.

“Peter, it doesn’t work that way. All of this stuff would be stale by tomorrow morning, even if you did it right. It has to be baked fresh right before we sell it—that’s why bakers get up at four in the morning!”

“Oh,” he says. “Well, I thought I was helping.”

“You’ve wasted about two days’ worth of ingredients!” I say, my voice rising. “And made hours more of work! It’s going to take forever to get all this cleaned up before we can go home!”

“Look,” he says, shaking a finger at me, “I’ve had just about enough of your attitude. All I’ve done, all day, is try to help. You just can’t stop criticizing me—”

“Peter, I was looking forward to going home after a long day,” I say through gritted teeth. “Now I have to clean up your damn mess, order more ingredients, and find some way to replace all this stuff so I’ve got something to sell tomorrow!”

“I’ll help clean, then,” he says stubbornly. “And from now on, I’ll just stop helping, so don’t even think about asking me.”

I didn’t even notice getting closer to him as we were fighting, but now I’m painfully aware of his nearness. His pretty mouth is right above mine, and I can feel his breath on my cheeks.

That same tension has crept into the air, just like it has every time I felt a moment of connection with him. Even though we’re arguing, I feel extremely close to him right now, and it isn’t just our physical proximity.

It’s almost like I can see straight into his heart.

In his wide, glittering green eyes, I can see a sense of desperation. There is a hint of his soul, as if he’s showing me a piece of his heart.

He really did try. I can see that. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on him.

The pressure between us intensifies, and I lean in, almost without realizing it. At the last moment, I catch myself and pull away, desperately trying not to touch him as I take a few steps back.

Don’t kiss him, goddammit!

“Okay,” I say as firmly as I can. “Let’s just clean up and get out of here. You don’t have to help anymore if you don’t want to.”

“Fine by me,” he snaps. His eyes are so cold and hard that I have to wonder if the moment of connection I felt was even real, or just what I wanted to see.

Chapter 12 - Peter

Even though Lucy told me not to help, I do, anyway. We clean the kitchen without speaking to each other, and I focus on the hard work, trying not to think.

I have to keep my teeth pressed together to stop myself from starting another fight. Even though I am sorry for making a mess in the kitchen, I have spent the whole day trying to help, and so far, Lucy hasn’t even said thank you.

When I’m done with the ovens, I turn to watch Lucy wipe down the benches. It looks like we’re almost done, and the clean-up effort really didn’t take that long.

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