Page 295 of The Maxwell Brothers
"What?"
"I find baking relaxing."
"I have no clue how to do it."
"I'll show you." I glanced up at him and continued, "You have to focus on specific measurements and steps, and you don't have time to think about any annoying stuff.”
“Aren't you going to your shift at the bar?"
“Not until six. Come on. It’ll be fun," I said. "I'll be your teacher, and you'll be my student."
His eyes flashed dangerously. My lady bits tingled. I wasn't expecting his reactionormine.
"Pave the way, Liz," he said. His voice had an edge that made me tingle even more.My, my. I had a hunch I was going to be the one who would be surprised.
Declan’s car was in a garage nearby. On the drive home, I made a mental inventory of all the supplies I had.
As soon as we stepped into the yard, I said, "We’re using your kitchen because it's huge and inviting, and I can’t wait to bake something there. But I'm betting you don't have any of the things I need, so we can go to my place real quick, grab everything we need, and go to yours. Unless… I mean, we can do it at my place," I said quickly, realizing I'd practically invited myself over.
He'd made me breakfast a few times, true. But we weren't at the point where we could randomly invite one another to each other's home, even though we practically lived in the same yard. That would be awkward and complicated, and what if he saidno? I knew there were good reasons why I shouldn't sleep with my neighbor.
"Why did you change your mind?" he asked.
"I mean, I did just invite myself over."
He pinned me with his gaze, and then he brought a hand to my cheek. "Liz, you can invite yourself over any time you want. I want you at my house. I like you there."
"Okay," I whispered.
"You sound uncertain."
"This is moving pretty fast, and I don't know if it's a good thing."
"It is a good thing," he said with all the confidence in the world. It meltedalmostall my uncertainties. "But if you feel uncomfortable with anything at any time, tell me."
I smiled, feeling my body relax at his touch and his words. "You're… I'm not even sure what to say. Then, we're baking at your place."
"Come on, let me help you get the stuff from the guest house."
"Do you have a food processor?"
"What’s that?"
"I thought you said you had cooking duties growing up?" I said with a laugh as we entered the guest house.
"I did, but it was usually chopping stuff or low-level cooking. My mom said feeding so many people required simple dishes."
I nodded. "That makes sense."
I grabbed flour, eggs, sugar, cocoa, vanilla, and butter, putting everything in a basket. I wondered if I should bring my mixer, then decided against it. We could do it by hand—or rather he could do it, and I could watch those sexy arm muscles in action. Oh yeah, I could do that.
"We’re all set," I said.
He grabbed the basket with supplies, and we left my house, taking the steps up to his front door.
I was carrying nothing, so all I had to do was ogle him, and I was an expert at that. If there were such a thing as an “ogling Declan” marathon, I’d be the winner.
CHAPTER 17
