“Maybe David’s got him on lockdown. What’s on the menu today?” He seated himself like everything was totally normal.
Beautiful women always make me lunch and wait for me without prompting.
“Tuna and avocado, apple wedges, and a honeydew green tea smoothie.”
“Well, that’s…intriguing,” he said.
“Admit it, that wasn’t the first word that came to mind. Here.” Danica passed over his portion of the food, and he realized he didn’t have dessert to contribute this time.
Titushatedfeeling unprepared. “If you’d given me a heads-up, I wouldn’t have shown up empty-handed.”
“You don’t like surprises?”
He considered that. “I just…don’t like getting more than I give. I can’t stand being in someone’s debt.”
“It’s a sandwich, not an auto loan.” Her warm voice carried a definite thread of music, a laugh she was holding in.
With a sigh, he conceded the point and took a bite. “A super delicious one, though.”
“You can make it up to me later.”
“Promise?”
Her eyes locked on his then slid to his mouth. “Definitely.”
Suddenly his head swam with thoughts not remotely appropriate for a public park at 1:24 in the afternoon. No, these were private midnight fantasies, ideas so dirty that he rarely framed such thoughts, let alone put someone in a starring role so fast.
With effort, he attempted a conversation that didn’t involve suggesting that she get naked. “Are you interested in some freelance work?”
“That’s the whole premise of our shop,” she said.
“Unrelated to fix-it work. I could use a taste tester for some recipes I’m working on. It’s not a paid position, I’m afraid. Maya usually does it, but she’s tired of sweets.”
“Not something I ever imagined was possible.”
“It is if you live with a baker.”
A slow smile that made him want to kiss her. “I’ll take that under advisement. So you’d be compensating me in other ways?”
He swallowed hard. “I’m willing to…negotiate.”
Chapter 8
Inside the house, Danica banged her head lightly against the front door.
Agreeing to be Titus’s taste tester had been a terrible idea because now she had a reason to see him again and again, even without dating. All kinds of impulsive stuff happened around him, like her brain had a permanent short circuit. Just as well he’d asked her to sample desserts and not to get married because she might’ve blurted a reflexive “yes” and unleashed the dogs of war. Well, Pomeranians belonging to her octogenarian grandmother anyway.
I should stop seeing him.Her magic already felt like bottled lightning, zinging around in uncontrollable bursts. Yet when she thought of him heading to their bench—oh Aradia, we have a spot already—and not finding her there, her heart ached. Already she cared too much how he felt, if he was sad or tired, if it brightened his day to eat lunch with her.
“Did you have a good time last night?” Clem asked.
Crap. I didn’t want to hash this out today.She needed time to get her head in order. Slowly, she turned, pretending that she wasn’t a hundred conflicted knots.
“Yeah, it was fun. Did you know there’s a Burmese restaurant in town?”
Clem tilted her head, visibly surprised. “Really, where?”
“In the strip mall, next to the dry cleaner. The food is excellent.” Eagerly, Danica extolled the virtues of the dishes she’d sampled and added, “We should eat there for one of our meetings and do coven business at someone’s place after. I’m dying to see what Ethel thinks of chicken coconut curry.”