Page 31 of Wild in the Woods
Chapter Twelve
Foxslidasmallbakery box across the table and refilled her coffee.
She got the impression that he was stalling, though he seemed equally eager to get going.
“Consider this your last taste of civilization before we head out.”
Well, that would be nice, but chances were she couldn’t eat whatever was inside, no matter how sweetly divine and deep fried it smelled. “Is it donuts?”
“Yep.”
She tried not to sound disappointed. It wasn’t his fault. “Thanks, but I follow a special diet.”
He nodded as if he was well aware. “Right. You have celiac. You mentioned that during the sassy rendition of your summer-gone-wrong at baking camp. Sticky Sweet Bakery has a dedicated bakery in the back just for gluten-free stuff.” He nudged the box closer. “Allie guarantees these are safe to eat. I don’t know, some lab does special testing to make sure all the food from that kitchen is safe.”
Lulu stared openly at him. He’d remembered her medical condition and went out of his way to accommodate it for no other reason than to give her a treat? Speechless, she blinked, and a strange emotion swelled in her chest.
“Are you going to stare at me, or are you going to eat one?”
She didn’t know what to say. Rudd had always made a fuss when she turned down dates to his favorite restaurants because she didn’t want to get sick. If she did give in and go, she just didn’t eat which he complained was embarrassing and awkward. Sometimes her own parents forgot to make concessions for her special diet when she visited for the holidays.
People in her life could really be jerks.
Fox had just raised the bar. Big time.
“I’m going to eat one,” she said giddily.
Lifting the lid, she spied a label on the inside top that declared the baked goods inside as certified gluten free. One was a classic glazed donut and the other was drenched in glistening chocolate. Pausing before choosing, she looked at him again, so touched that she felt silly. It was almost overwhelming.
“Thank you for being this considerate.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Who doesn’t love a good donut first thing in the morning? It’s a weakness. I always miss it when I’m teaching and can’t get to the bakery.”
“Me, too!” She gushed. “I’ve been stuffing my face with these delicious heart-attack circles every morning since the first day of college.”
She chose the classic glazed treat and may have moaned a little while taking a bite. Oh, God, it was tender and crisp with a sugary burst that melted on her tongue. She finished half before realizing that he was watching her. And not just casually, but with a hunger on his face that had nothing to do with the donut. His eyes flashed and his mouth was set hard. His nostrils flared as she chewed, so she stopped, not sure what was happening or what to do.
Heat rose between them. It wafted over her bare forearms and caressed her neck. Flustered, and getting confusingly aroused, she slid the bakery box to him with her free hand.
“Eat one.”
That seemed to break him out of whatever spell he was under. He spun and left the room. Her eyes followed his movements and landed square on his backside. It was a very nice backside. Too nice.
He came back wearing a slim, black, down vest and had another bakery box in his hand with a foil pouch sitting on top. He tossed the pouch to her and opened the box, taking out the hugest bear claw donut she’d every seen.
“Before we go get breakfast, we’re going to sort your gear.”
“This isn’t breakfast?” She polished off the donut and after brief hesitation, started on the next one.
“This is just sugar we use for a serotonin rush. We need protein and good fats to sustain our energy. In the wild, protein is king.”
Her appetite waned as that sunk in. What sources of protein he was talking about, exactly? She finished the second donut and washed it down with coffee. Fox asked her to grab her pack from the porch and set it in the living room.
He met her there. “Open it and take everything out.”
She didn’t know what half the stuff was that the man at the outfitter store had said she needed. She’d brought the sparse list from Fox’s website with her when she went shopping, which really only mentioned good boots, wool socks, and soft, breathable clothing. Figuring there was no harm in adding a few things, she may have gone overboard. Her credit card had definitely gotten a workout.
On one knee, she unpacked the bag while Fox watched with his hands on his hips and a stern, serious expression. Using the toe of his boot, he started scooting things around, saying, “Nope. Nope. Definitely nope. What is this garbage? Nope.”
