Page 3 of Baking With A Rockstar

He could beanyone.

“Aaaaahhh!” The strangled cry rips out of my throat, startling not just me but my drool-worthy intruder too.

He removes the shirt from his face in one swift motion, his brown eyes immediately finding mine—not that it’s a hard thing to do after the war cry I just let loose.

The noise of blood rushing through the veins in my ears is loud and distracting, and my body seems to have a mind of its own, doing things I’m not even realizing until—

Smack.

I look down at my now empty hands in utter shock before slowly looking back up to take in the crime scene I just created.

The big ball of dough I just threw—without any conscious thought of it—landed square in his face.

Oops.

Chapter Two

Thud.

The ball of dough hits the floor with a softplop, leaving a surprised-looking man standing in front of me. At least, I think he’s surprised since he still hasn’t said another word. He’s just staring at me with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. Since the dough was still wet enough when I threw it, little pieces are now stuck to almost every inch of his face.

“Oh my gosh.” My hands fly up to slap over my mouth while I try really hard to keep a straight face. I still have no clue who this guy is, but man, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen something this funny, and I practically have first row seats. My attempt at keeping my feelings about this situation to myself remains unsuccessful when I burst into a bout of laughter—fully complemented by the occasional snort.

This might quite possibly be the worst first impression I’ve ever made on a human being. Maybe I should be worried about that fact, but I just can’t bring myself to care. It’s been a very long time since I’ve laughed like this, and it almost feels cathartic.

The guy clears his throat, touching his face with a shake of his head. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, at least.”

At first, I’m not sure how to take his comment—and for a moment, I’m afraid he’s mad—but then I see the corners of his mouth lift into a smirk. All I can do is stare at him, my eyes blinking rapidly, basking in the fact that I’m pretty sure he has dimples.

Freaking dimples. They will be the end of me.

I guessed he’d be good-looking, but this man goes above and beyond that level, making him easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen—even with dough plastered all over his face. Before that thought can spin into something bigger, I stop myself. Taking a deep breath, I tell my hormones to stay far away, not that I can blame them for wanting to come out to play.

“I’m so sorry.” The mortification is slowly starting to sink in, and I’m ready to hide somewhere to escape this embarrassing situation.

He arches an eyebrow, and a piece of dough that was stuck to it falls to the floor. “Huh. Are you sure? You could have fooled me when you were doubled over with laughter just a moment ago.”

Heat immediately shoots into my cheeks in response, and a huge grin spreads across his face. I momentarily forget how to breathe because it’s that blinding. I clearly haven’t been out in a while, especially not around ridiculously handsome men like him. Now that I think about it, it’s actually been years since I felt attracted to someone this quickly, not that it’s ever been this strong before. My grandma always used to say there are two kinds of attraction. One is the instant one, that usually happens before you even know the person, and the other is the kind that grows with your feelings as you get to know a person better.

I’m pretty sure we have an instant winner, since I can’t seem to think straight and words just start pouring out of my mouth. “Who are you anyway?”

There are a lot of ways he could have reacted to that question. What I don’t expect is for him to start laughing so loudly I’m sure they can hear him a few houses down—and the properties in this neighborhood are pretty big. He clutches his stomach as he continues to shake with laughter, and naturally, I can’t help myself and track his every movement with my eyes. And for the love of...there are those perfect abs again, practically begging me to devour them with my gaze—at the very least.

“Could you, uh, could you maybe cover yourself up a little bit more? It’s a bit inappropriate, if you ask me. Don’t you feel uncomfortable like this in front of a stranger?” More random—and albeit pretty inane—words come out of my mouth. I barely refrain from slapping myself on the forehead, trying to pretend like I’m actually in control of my own brain. My eyes stay trained on him, never letting him out of my sight.

This time, I can tell he’s trying to keep his laughter at bay, not that I can blame him for wanting to laugh at me again. I’m obviously doing a pretty lame-ass job at this whole impression thing, and I wouldn’t be too surprised if I ended up with a dough ball in my face too.

Since I’m uncomfortable with the silence right now, I’m trying to fill every second of it. “So, who are you?”

I don’t always make such an idiot of myself, so I might as well know who I have to bribe to never speak a word about what happened here. I mean, this guy is nothing but a bad distraction I definitely don’t need in my life, but for right now, he can at least be a distraction with a name. Once I know that, I can properly bid him farewell when he leaves—fascinating abs and all.

He studies me for a moment before crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Well, I’ve been gone for a few months, but the last time I checked, this was my house. So”—he points a finger straight at me and I gulp—“the real question is, who are you?”

Crap. His house? Hannah said this house belongs to one of her grandsons. After taking another good look at him, I can actually see some family resemblance. His eyes definitely have the same mischievous glint that Hannah has so often.

“Oh.” My mouth stays in a perfect O-shape for a few moments—not only because I’m perplexed but also because I’m even more embarrassed now about my previous behavior. I just “doughed” the owner. Only me. Ugh. “Hannah didn’t mention anything about you coming back. She said we’d have the place to ourselves.”

“That’s probably because I didn’t tell anyone I was coming home. It was supposed to be a surprise.” His eyes roam over my face, and I briefly wonder how he sees me. What an odd thought. “But it looks like I’m the one surprised instead.”

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