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I can’t help it. I smile. “Is this where I’m the catcher again?”
He leans back in the booth, a little chagrined but also owning his sports speak. “You can take the man out of the baseball game, but I guess you can’t take the baseball out of the man.”
“We helped each other,” I say. “I was seriously grateful for your save with the chocolate race. That was amazing.”
“But I should have listened to you sooner,” he says, like he’s beating himself up over this. “I was obsessed with Celeste and the location. I can get a little single-minded.”
He’s so self-aware, it’s refreshing. “I noticed,” I say softly, exonerating him. “And I understand.”
The other day when he shut down after he touched me, I was hurt. I felt as if I’d made myself vulnerable because, well, sex is vulnerable. A few days later, with time and reflection, I could see where he was coming from—he’s banking on the exposure this shop can bring. Me too. “And look, I foolishly thought opening this pop-up would solve everything.”
He looks confused. “You don’t think it’s helping?”
“I absolutely think it is and it will,” I say, assuring him. “Tonight was a great start. But I suppose I thought it being an overnight sensation would mean I could pay off the loan like that.” I snap my fingers. I picture my banking app on my phone, the payments I still need to make. I’m getting closer. But I’m not there yet. “It’ll take more than one great night though. More than the buzz we got. And Special Edition is not a magic bullet. There will always be more bills, so I understand why you said we can’t do this again. We don’t want to mess up our partnership.”
“I said it at the wrong time though. In the wrong way. I should have…” But when he trails off it’s clear he doesn’t know how he should have delivered that truth bomb.
I don’t either.
He takes a breath, scrubbing a hand over his jaw, then locks those sinful eyes with mine. “Here’s the thing. I couldn’t get you out of my head when I first met you. It’s still that way,” he says, reaching for my hand, like he often does. The man is so tactile. Touch is his love language. He’s always putting a hand on my arm, or wrapping one around me, or squeezing my palm. “But I’m terrible at making it all work. I don’t know how to do this and everything else. That’s why I kind of went cold the other day.”
Since he’s being patently honest, I give him some of the same. “When you said that can’t happen again, you were giving the impression like you thought I was that crazy girl you had to break up with.” I point to my chest. “I’m a grown woman. I do understand why we set lines and rules. Tonight was a classic example of why we need them. There was a lot happening in the store, but if we’re all weird and tense with each other we will make mistakes.” I pause to drive the point home. “And we can’t afford to.”
He laughs, but it’s devoid of humor. “Are you saying Felix was right? That new couples are trouble?”
I shrug in admission. “Kind of? I mean, look at us. We were sort of…prickly. We almost let it get in the way of business.”
“We did. You’re right.”
Seconds later, Zoe arrives with the food. “Here you go. I should let you know it’s last call, but the kitchen said they’ll stay open for you, boss.”
“They don’t need to, but thank you,” he says.
When she leaves, he picks up a fry, but before he eats, he meets my gaze once more and asks point blank, “What’s up with that guy Sebastian? Why do I get an ex-boyfriend vibe from him?”
My stomach curls. I knew this was coming. It would be hard to avoid the truth. But it’s better if Gage knows anyway. “He asked me out once. I turned him down. I said I didn’t feel the chemistry. I feel like that bothered him more than he ever let on. And when he was trying to buy my shop, he sent me gifts like chocolate bath bombs.”
He puts two and two together. “That was what you meant by your chocolate soap comment earlier.”
I tap my nose, a sign he’s got it right. “Yes.”
“That guy,” he mutters, his tone bordering on caveman.
And I can’t resist that tone. “I noticed when he’s around you get a little possessive. A little my woman.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how I?—”
But the conversation ends when our phones buzz in unison.
It’s a text from Felix. He wants to know if I’ll be available for the Dessert Devotee to shoot a video with me tomorrow and he’s letting Gage know about the video too, even though she only needs me. “This is big time,” I shriek.
“You earned it, baby,” he says, and that word from him threatens to melt me like it has before.
“We earned it,” I correct.
He waves a hand dismissively. “She didn’t even want my cocktails. She’s after you, and I’m not surprised. You’re a star.”
His genuine enthusiasm melts me as much as his nickname. I really need to be careful around him.
