Page 114 of Knot Baked Out For This
"But tomorrow, after I install your security system."
"Deal."
She walks me to the door, and we stand there in that awkward space between goodbye and something more. Her eyes keep dropping to my mouth. My hands itch to touch her face.
Kiss her, you idiot.
But then my phone rings. Levi's ringtone, because of course it is.
"I swear they're all cockblockers," I mutter, which makes her giggle.
"Goodnight, Luca."
"Goodnight."
I make it three steps before turning back. Knock once. She opens immediately, like she was still standing there.
"Did you forget?—"
I cup her cheek, gentle but firm, and kiss her.
She makes a soft sound of surprise, then melts into me, her hands coming up to grip my shirt. She tastes like chamomile and gingerbread, sweet and spicy and perfect. Her mouth is soft, warm, and when she kisses me back it's like coming home after a long journey I didn't know I was on.
I keep it gentle, careful, but there's heat underneath, promise of more when she's ready, when she asks for it.
When I pull back, her eyes are glazed, lips parted, cheeks flushed.
"I'm not the type to be cockblocked," I tell her. "Except by you."
I wink—actually wink, like I'm Levi or something—and head downstairs before I do something stupid like carry her to her bedroom and show her exactly how not-simple she is.
I'm almost to my truck when I hear her whisper, probably thinking I can't hear:
"Luca's definitely the smooth one."
She touches her lips, standing in her doorway backlit by fairy lights, and I have to grip my keys hard enough to hurt to keep from going back up there.
Smooth. She thinks I'm smooth.
If only she knew I've been practicing that kiss in my head for weeks, that I have a spreadsheet of her favorite things, that I think about her so much it's affecting my ability to function.
But maybe that's okay. Maybe being smooth is just another form of strategic relationship building.
Or maybe you're just completely gone for her, Maddox.
Yeah. That too.
Definitely that too.
CHAPTER 20
Social Media Siege
~HAZEL~
Four AM is when successful business owners count money. It's also when overwhelmed bakers have existential crises while drowning in order tickets.
The bakery kitchen sprawls before me in the pre-dawn darkness, renovated and perfect and absolutely terrifying in its efficiency. Every surface gleams with professional-grade promise. The new ovens hum with competent warmth. The walk-in freezer maintains optimal temperature like it's personally invested in my success.
