Page 16 of Made for You

“Are those cranberry white chocolate chunk from Margaret?” He licks his lips.

“Kind of?”

“How are cookies kind of from Margaret? They either are or they aren’t.” He raises a brow in my direction.

“Well, she helped me make them. We did it together, but I added a few special ingredients.”

He eyes me suspiciously but unwraps the ribbon and gently opens the box, grabbing a cookie. He takes one bite and his eyes flutter closed.

“I don’t know how you did it, but somehow these are better than Margaret’s,” his eyes open wide, cookie frozen in mid-air, “Oh shit, please don’t tell her I said that. When you leave, she’ll never make them for me again.” He takes two more from the box, like I’m going to suddenly revoke all his cookie rights.

“I’m not leaving.” I place the cookies down on the four wheeler.

“Well. I know you said you weren’t but, really, how many job prospects do you have out here? Clark will never retire if that’s what you’re banking on.”

I cross my arms in front of my chest and purse my lips in a thin line. Is that really what he thinks of me? That I’m only here for an easy job prospect?

“My job prospects are just fine, thank you. I’m here to help Gran reopen and then we’ll work together in the bakery like I’ve always wanted.”

“Then why didn’t you come back sooner?” He’s inching closer to me, so subtly that I might not notice if I wasn’t so acutely aware of his body.

“I—I don’t know,” I admit.

It’s a question I’ve asked myself year after year. I’m a grown adult now. But still I listened to my mother, not wanting to piss her off.

Before he can make me think more on that, I remember why I’m really here. God, his closeness is really scrambling my brain.

“I actually came here to ask you a favor.”

“So the cookies were a bribe?” He snatches another cookie from the box, eating it in only two bites, still inches from me.

“Not a bribe, per se. But I was told that it might soften you a little to my idea.” I bite my bottom lip as he stares at me.

“Well? What is the favor then?”

“Oh, um… I was wondering if maybe I could use the kitchen at the inn. Gran has contracts with Esther and you, as you know, and right now we can’t fulfill those. If I could useyour commercial kitchen I could fulfill the contracts and we wouldn’t lose so much money without having a storefront. We could pay rent for the kitchen obviously, and it’s beneficial to you because you’d get your welcome boxes, and afternoon spread.” I get out in one breath.

He sits on the stump that he was using to chop wood, and takes another cookie. He stares at me still without saying a word.

I fidget under his silent gaze.

“I suppose I have to sayyesif I want the inn to get their treats, huh?” He places his finger on his lips like he’s thinking really hard to make this decision. “I will say yes, but only under one condition.”

Of course this man has conditions.

“What is it?”

“You need to help me get the kitchen back in working order. It hasn’t been used in years except to make coffee. Everything should still work, it just needs to be cleaned.” He stands, gathering his supplies and placing them on his four wheeler.

“Yes! Absolutely!” I jump up and down.

“Hold on there, let’s go see the kitchen first before you agree.” He grimaces.

“Oooookay, how bad can it be?” I ask hesitantly.

“Hop on and let’s go find out.” He pats the back of his four wheeler and I climb on, wrapping my arms around his waist. I don’t miss how he sucks in a breath under my touch.

I rest my cheek against his back, trying to ward off the whipping wind against my face.

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