Page 38 of Knot That Serious

“Yeah,” she said, and continued piping. “Well, I doubled a few recipes since I’ll be gone for a few days. All the online orders should be filled, and I made extras of the bestsellers to anticipate the orders you’ll get while I’m gone.”

“Right,” Jack said, and something in his voice made her stiffen.

“Just a few more cookies left, then I’ll be done,” she said, eying the row of naked little bitches waiting their turn. “Fucking hate this design,” she muttered, though her hand was steady. It was just slow going. Flood icing always was. “Might change this design—or maybe switch up the menu, actually.”

“What?” Jack asked. “But not the brownies, right?”

Eli smiled, couldn’t help it. “No, Jack, not the brownies.”

“Thank god for that,” Jack said, relieved. “As long as you don’t touch my brownies, I don’t care what you do to the menu. It’s your magic that keeps this place running.”

“Oh, come on,” Eli scoffed, but secret delight filled her. “You know this place would fall apart if you weren’t taking care of, like, literally everything else.”

“It’s just numbers,” he argued. “Anyone can do numbers. You could do numbers.”

“Don’t want to,” Eli retorted. “That’s what I have you for.”

“Oh, so you only want me for my huge brain, that’s it.”

Eli snorted. “S’not like you have anything else huge.”

She heard Jack’s brain skid as it stuttered to a stop. “I beg to differ,” he finally choked out. “I—you—you suck,” he muttered, unable to come up with a better response.

Eli flooded the last cookie, switched bags, and finished her magic before standing up. “There. Finally.”

“Why’re you here so early?” she asked, turning to face him.

He’d shed the jacket and helmet, and leaned against the door frame, looking as delicious as the baked goods behind him. What with the sleeves of his shirt stretched across his biceps like that.

And he smelled really good today, Eli thought, inhaling sharply for more. What the fuck?

Eli swallowed.

“Beckett is up early for work, so I got up with him. Figured I’d come run interference for you with customers.”

“Thanks,” Eli said.

Right. Act casual. Not like you got off to the sound of Jack getting fucked by his alpha boyfriend and then almost ripped the door open to beg them to fuck you, too.

Clearing her throat, Eli stepped away from the table and began tidying the area.

“You’re acting weird,” Jack mused, and Eli froze.

“What do you mean?” Eli asked, tossing her stuff in the sink and turning to face him.

“Well, you haven’t looked me in the eye since I got here,” Jack said.

“What?” Eli met his gaze and tried not to flinch. It wasn’t like he’d be able to read her mind, know what had happened from just a glance. “I’m just busy.”

He squinted at her. “You’re lying! Oh my god, you just lied to me!”

Why was he grinning so hard, then? And why was it so adorable?

Eli bared her teeth before turning back to the sink, beginning to wash up like the dishes had personally wronged her.

Then Jack was beside her, leaning uselessly against the counter and staring at her. Smelling all yummy and cinnamony and baked goodsy, but now his scent was heightened with the fresh greenery of fucking Beckett, and Eli kind of wanted to bottle it.

“What is it? You can tell me anything, you know that,” Jack said in a rare moment of sincerity.

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