Page 10 of Flake It Til You Make It

Personally, Taylor didn’t have skin in the game, as he didn’t drink coffee and he was neutral on the concept of goat cheese, but he’d listened anyway. At the time, he’d told himself it was because he was the deputy mayor and it was his job and his responsibility to keep an ear out for relevant issues in the town, even if it was just gossip. But he knew, deep down, that wasn’tentirelywhy he’d listened.

Someone had said, very loudly, the nameRocco Morettiand his whole body had perked up.

Kinda like how it was doing now.

“Did you know I delivered a dozen boxes of cookies to the festival committee? Hand baked. Hand packed. Freakinghand delivered. They wouldn’t even listen to me.” Rocco sounded disgusted. “And Joel isn’t even who normally does it! Holly and Joelle did itevery single yearbefore he did last year’s, because of an emergency. I should’ve gotten that job back.”

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say—

“Maybe they thought you’d fill the cookies with goat cheese,” Taylor said, saying it anyway.

Enjoying, way more than he should have, how Rocco’s eyes lit up. In amusement. In passion. Probably ineverything.Rocco was the kind of guy who never held back. Taylor didn’t even realize how cold he’d gotten until he metaphorically stripped off his gloves and held his freezing hands up to that warmth.

Rocco laughed, long and loud, not worrying about any of the sets of eyes that swiveled in their direction. “They probablydothink that. I’m gonna have to come up with a goat cheese cookie, just to piss them off.”

“Maybe not,” Taylor said hurriedly.

“Or maybe I’d be doing it to temptyouinto Jolly Java,” Rocco teased. “You haven’t been back since that first time you visited.”

Even if Taylor liked coffee, he’d have avoided Jolly Java on principle.

Self-preservation principle.

“I actually don’t drink coffee,” Taylor admitted. Stupidly, irrationally worried that his admission would mean Rocco would no longer be interested in talking to him.

That would be okay. You’d be okay with that.

“You haven’t hadmycoffee,” Rocco said, apparently not turned off, but in fact, intrigued by the challenge Taylor presented.

“My friend Joey’s tried for years.” Taylor rubbed his neck. Already feeling the prickle of inevitable disappointment. “Even in college, I wouldn’t.”

Rocco only looked more fascinated. “What did you drink instead? Don’t tell me you don’t drink caffeine? A hot, professional guy like you? I can’t even deal with it if you don’t.”

Taylor’s brain, mostly unaffected by Heath’s obvious interest, stuttered to a complete fucking halt at Rocco’s words.

“You think I’m hot?”

Rocco took his drink—unsurprisingly an espresso martini—from the bartender, and saluted Taylor with it. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “That’s not even a compliment. It’s just a plain fact.”

“Oh uh, thanks.” Taylor tried to accept the compliment like it was nothing, like guys who looked like Rocco Moretti told him he was hot all the time.

Maybe they might,Mona’s voice told him,if you didn’t freeze them out first.

“Anyway, whatdoyou drink? Please tell me you’re not one of those clean-living types . . .” Rocco trailed off and gave him a look up and down, similar to the one Heath had given him earlier, but this one lit him right up. “Though you kindalooklike one of those types.”

“Uh, no,” Taylor said, lifting his beer glass. “I’m drinking this beer, aren’t I? I . . .uh . . .well, I’ve got a very secret, very terrible addiction to energy drinks, if you have to know.”

“That stuff’ll eat your liver,” Rocco said.

“Believe me, that’s what everyone says, and yet I keep drinking them.” Taylor shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “Now you know the worst thing about me.”

“I like it,” Rocco said, surprising him.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Now I’m gonna have to tell you something. Um . . .well, you clearly already know about the pumpkin spice and the goat cheese . . .” Rocco glanced up at him, worry creasing his handsome features. “Don’t tell me someone complained to the mayor’s office?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” He didn’t tell Rocco about the overheard conversation at The Snowflake Shack.

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