Page 2 of My Brooding Valentine

The rest of my rehearsed speech fell out of my mind as I stared into those warm, brown eyes that didn’t match the rest of his face. His hard features said he’d seen some things in his time, and he didn’t have energy for nonsense. And here I was, dishing him out a big heaping plate of nonsense.

Speaking of plates…

“Cookies?”

I thrust them toward him. The creases between his eyebrows deepened as he frowned at the array of pastel-iced baked goods. Front and center was one that read,Be Mine. Another read,Cutie Pie. And then there was the one that read,I’m yours.

I groaned inwardly. I clearly hadn’t thought this through.

“Cookies,” I repeated, as if he didn’t know what they were.

This is where his features would soften. He might even smile at me. Who could turn down cookies? At the very least, he’d grab one and take a big bite.

He did none of that. He just stared at me like I was a fly in his soup.

“My oven’s out,” I blurted. “I need help.”

I lowered the cookies, putting them closer to me than him, and waited. If he didn’t have time for nonsense and he didn’t want my cookies, I’d cut to the chase.

He didn’t want my cookies. Why did that sound sexual somehow? If I could figure that out, I might understand why this felt like rejection. Just looking at the guy made my heart race.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You need me to take a look at it?”

“I think it’s completely dead,” I said. “I was hoping you could help me.”

His eyebrows arched. “I’m not an electrician. There’s wiring involved. It’s not smart to have just anyone do that.”

“Oh,” I said, disappointment coming through in my voice. “I guess I should try to track down an electrician, huh?”

He looked at something above my head and finally let out a sigh. “I’ll meet you over there. You don’t need to pay me—in cookies or otherwise. Just let me grab my toolbox and I’ll be there in a second.”

And with that, he stepped back and slammed the door in my face. It made no sense, but I wore a goofy grin as I walked back to my cabin. I’d get my oven fixed and spend some time with the hottest guy I’d ever seen.

This day was already looking up.

2

SAWYER

The last thing I wanted to do was spend the afternoon with a chatty, overly cheerful neighbor. Normally, I’d be rushing to finish up the job and get the hell out of here, so why was I taking my time in the hopes of dragging it out?

Because she was hot as hell. That was why.

“Anyway, so, it was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” she said. “There’s no guarantee a rental cabin’s oven will work. But the oven in my apartment is a piece of junk. It never cooks anything right. What else could I do?”

Silence followed, and it took me a second to realize she’d asked me a question. Her voice had become like background noise as I checked the wires in the hole where the stove had been when I arrived. But it was the kind of background noise that calmed me.

That was the weirdest thing I’d ever experienced, and I’d experienced some fucked-up stuff.Calmfrom someone talking nonstop? What was that all about?

We’d introduced ourselves soon after I’d shown up, and from there, I’d said very little. I didn’t mind, though. At least she was keeping me company.

“I guess you do what you have to do,” I said. “Can you come help me with this?”

“Oh yes. Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I’ve been running my mouth. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. And silence makes me nervous. You’re not much of a talker.”

“You could say that,” I said. “I just need you to help hold this while I connect the wires.”

She stepped into place, grabbing the oven in all the wrong places. “Like this?”

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