Page 4 of Moody Mountain Man
“I don’t do crowds.”
“You used to.”
“Yeah. I used to do many things.”
She goes quiet again, but not for long. “I saved you two rolls from the first tray. Still warm.”
I glance up. “You don’t have to feed me.”
“Not feeding you would be rude. And you’re doing me a favor.”
I grumble something about fair trade, but when she sets the plate beside me, I eat both rolls without hesitation. They taste like butter and brown sugar and something I can’t afford to want.
By nine, the tile is up, clean, and curing under a taped-off partition. She wipes sweat from her temple and grins like she just won a prize.
“You saved me.”
“I fixed a wall.”
“You saved my ovens,” she says, nudging my boot with her toe. “Same thing.”
“I don’t do rescue work anymore.”
She doesn’t flinch, just nods.
“You always did like being the boss.”
“Someone has to be.” She turns away, calling to Rosa, and that’s when I let myself watch her, just for a second.
Hair pinned back. Freckles. There is a little cinnamon smudge on her cheek. Whole damn woman like sunshine wrapped in sass and stubbornness. And me? I’m standing here wondering ifshe remembers the part of the kiss with me holding her hips like I couldn’t let go.
I pack up, needing distance before I do something stupid.
“You don’t have to vanish,” she says as I head for the door.
“I finished the job.”
“Still. You could stay. Grab lunch. Help me eat these muffins before Rosa accuses me of hoarding.”
I should say no. I really should.
But her smile’s crooked and warm, and it tugs at something under my ribs. So I shrug. “Half a muffin.”
“Progress,” she says, beaming.
She tears one in half and hands it over, brushing my fingers in the process. Her eyes flick up to mine. There’s heat there. A slow burn. Familiar and dangerous.
“You always did like sweet things,” she says quietly.
I meet her gaze. “I liked you.”
She freezes, just for a breath. Then asks, “Liked?”
I don’t answer. I take another bite and walk out before I do something like kiss her again.
Because if I kiss Annie Monroe one more time, I’m not going to stop. I already know how fast fire spreads in this kitchen.
Chapter three
