Page 68 of How Sweet It Is

“You do.” He steps closer. “Want me to get it for you?”

I narrow my eyes, playful. “I swear, if you lick your thumb and wipe my face, I’m leaving.”

He grins, his mouth close enough to mine now that I can feel the heat of him. “Then I guess I better use a different method.”

His hand slides to my jaw, gentle but firm, and then he dips in, brushing his lips over mine.

It’s slow. Careful. But not hesitant.

He’s tasting me. Testing this. And I’m not running.

My hands find his chest, warm through the fabric of his shirt. He deepens the kiss, not urgent, just a quiet ache, full of everything we’ve both been afraid to admit.

When he pulls back, his voice is husky. “You taste like trouble.”

“Back at you,” I whisper.

He steps back, reluctantly, and turns to the oven to set the timer. “Twenty minutes until the scones are done.”

“That’s a long time. Whatever shall we do?” I can’t believe how flirty I’m being. This is a new side of me, and I have to admit, I kind of like it.

He glances over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “Careful, Claire. You’re starting to sound like a bad influence.”

I grin. “Maybe I am.”

CHAPTER 32

LEVI BARRETT — SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19

Isqueeze the piping tube, adding the last row of flowers to Kiki’s wedding cake. This week has been a whirlwind of baking, cleaning up after baking, and spending time with my favorite accountant. Claire and I have been getting along really well, and we’ve become quite close. It’s honestly been the best week of my life as long as I don’t think about what happens after she leaves.

Claire comes in the back of the bakery wearing her usual business attire. “Good morning.” She eyes the almost-finished wedding cake. “How long have you been up?”

“Since four,” I say as I squeeze the frosting out. “I couldn’t sleep in, even though I tried. I guess I’m just on a baker’s schedule now.”

She walks over to the counter and picks up the clear box holding the little wedding couple for the top. “You’ve done a fantastic job. Kiki’s going to be thrilled.”

“Thanks,” I say, pleased at the compliment. I gingerly pick up the cake and walk over to the cake box before sliding it in.

“What’s that?” Claire asks.

“It’s called a cake safe. It keeps the cake stable while I’m driving.” I enclose the cake inside the box then slide in the stabilizing bar. Claire gasps when I stab it through the entire three layers of cake.

“That won’t ruin it?”

I laugh. “Don’t worry. The bar will slide right out the top, barely leaving a mark.” I point at the wedding couple she has in her hands. “That’s going to cover up the hole.”

She walks around the clear box, looking at the cake inside. “Genius.”

“Will you help me take it out to the truck?” I purchased a refrigerated delivery truck for the business, even though Claire told me she’d be fine just using her car for deliveries. I figured I would need a truck eventually.

“Sure. What can I do?”

“Open the doors for me.” I grab the cake box and lift it.

“Will do.” She runs to the back door and opens it wide for me. Then she takes care of the truck doors. I climb in and place the cake on one of the shelves, securing it for transport.

“You’re delivering the cake this early? Won’t the buttercream frosting melt?”

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