Page 5 of My Brooding Valentine

The problem was, I was feeling the exact opposite of that. If I was going to belong to anyone, this woman standing in front of me would be the person. And that was a feeling I didn’t know how to handle.

3

HAILEY

It’s not a date.

I changed clothes three times, and that was a lot considering I’d only brought four tops and two bottoms.

It’s not a date.

I stood in front of the mirror, perfecting my hair and makeup for a good twenty minutes. Finally, I stepped back and took in the burgundy sweater and matching lipstick.

It’s not a date.

Once I was ready, I spent a half hour setting the table and rearranging the place settings. Finally, around the time I set the big bowl of salad in the center of the table, I had to admit my body thought it was a date. No matter what I told myself, I was nervous about having my neighbor over for dinner.

Three loud knocks had me gasping and jumping. This cabin had a doorbell, but maybe Sawyer was so used to not having one, he didn’t look for that. Or maybe he left the doorbell off his house on purpose, and he had something against them.

I was all the way to the door before I remembered I still wore my apron. I quickly untied it and whipped it over my head,folding it neatly and carrying it in my left hand as I pulled open the door.

“Hi,” I said, giving him my brightest smile.

Sawyer stood on the porch, awkwardly holding a six-pack in his left hand. “I didn’t have wine. I should have driven down to Adairsville to pick up some.”

I shook my head. “I’m a beer drinker.”

Did he happen to have a six-pack on hand? Maybe he drove to get one.

No, this wasn’t a date, but I sure was overthinking things like it was.

“Come on in,” I said.

I stepped back and took a deep breath to slow my heart as he walked in. I should probably offer to take the six-pack, but I was worried I’d drop it, with as much as my hands were trembling. So instead, I led him into the cabin and toward the kitchen.

“Smells great,” he said.

“The lasagna’s been resting for about twenty minutes, so it should be ready. I’ll get some glasses.”

All that time I’d spent setting the table, I hadn’t even thought about glasses. Or what I’d offer him to drink. Good thing he’d brought beer, because all I had was diet soda and bottled water.

“No glass needed for me,” Sawyer said.

I turned to look at him and noticed he’d pulled back a chair but didn’t move to sit in it. The six pack was next to the bowl of salad. He reached forward and grabbed one of the beers, uncapping it and setting it next to my plate, which was directly across from his.

“So, you’re a baker?” he asked.

I settled my apron on the island, then grabbed the potholders to pick up the lasagna and carry it over to the table. I’d already set a towel out in the center to avoid damaging the wood.

“I want to be,” I said. “I guess you could call me a hobbyist right now. I’d been working at a bakery in Billings since I graduated high school, but they shut down a couple of months ago, so I’m between jobs. It’s now or never.”

He’d uncapped a beer and took a big sip, but I couldn’t help but notice he was still standing. He was waiting for me to sit first. A true gentleman.

“This Seduction Summit place—” He hesitated, and I’d swear his mouth twitched a little in a hint of amusement. Then he continued. “This Seduction Summit place is where you want to go to be a baker?”

I shook my head. “That’s just where the competition is being held this year. But the winner gets fifty-thousand dollars and help with starting a bakery in whatever town we want.”

“A town like Seduction Summit?”

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