Page 44 of Wedding Bells in Silverwood

He let out a small laugh. “I deserve that, I suppose. How about this: I apologize for any time I’ve raised my voice or said anything disrespectful to you. I don’t want to bethatguy.”

Viola uncrossed her arms, gazing into Jonas’s eyes. He seemed sincere.

“Thank you,” she finally said.

He nodded.

Viola gestured at the pie. “Well, it smells delicious.”

“You should taste it to verify your suspicions.” He picked up a fork, shoveled a hunk of pie, and held it between them.

“Taste it? You, uh, don’t have plans for it?”

“I planned to eat it, but I’d rather not do it alone. Come on. It’s cooled down enough. And I promise it’s not poisoned.”

“Well, the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But now that you mention it …” She smirked before leaning forward.

At the last second, he retracted the fork. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

He studied her face. “Close your eyes.”

She felt a flutter in her stomach. “Why?”

“It intensifies the experience when you focus on fewer senses.”

Why was her heartbeat accelerating? His gaze was enough to stop her heart.

He took a step closer, holding the fork near her mouth. In a soft whisper, he repeated, “Trust me. Close your eyes.”

Viola’s body quivered. She was very aware of her own breathing as she gazed back at Jonas. His eyes seemed to darken as he stared at her mouth. Their proximity sent a flutter to her stomach. She took a deep breath before lowering her lids and parting her lips. The scents of apple and cinnamon wafted up to tickle her nose.

It couldn’t be more than a second, but somehow, the wait seemed infinite. As the warm pastry briefly brushed against her upper lip, she had to stop herself from letting out a moan.

Jonas slipped the fork into her mouth, and she wrapped her lips around it, taking in the explosion of flavors erupting all over her tongue.

Brown sugar? Cardamom? Is that butterscotch?

Viola opened her eyes as she finished the bite and was met with piercing, green eyes. So many emotions ran through her: euphoria from the best pie she’d ever tasted, surprise that Jonas could bake something so delectable, and a sense of trepidation from the intense way he gazed at her.

“I’m no culinary school prodigy, but I’m inclined to say it’s pretty good.” He shrugged. “What do you think?”

She swallowed hard, hoping her voice wouldn’t fail her. “It’s delicious. I’m impressed.”

He didn’t smile in response. Instead, his focus went to her lips. When he shifted closer, she didn’t back away.

A buzz sounded. Viola blinked, and in the next second, Jonas reached into his back pocket and took out his phone.

Viola cleared her throat. “Something important?”

“Yeah.” He returned his phone. “Susan texted to remind me of a conference call I’ve got in half an hour.”

“Business calls.” She gestured at the pie. “Won’t that undo all the good the meditative baking was for?”

“Hopefully not. Besides, maybe this was all part of my master plan to invent the next best culinary creation.”

“Actually, one of the most famous culinary inventions of our time was an accident.”

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