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"Now who's the ghost?" I tease as she squirms in my arms, leaving white handprints on my shirt. Her eyes sparkle up at me, cheeks flushed with joy. She's never looked more radiant.
Time seems to stop as I stare down at the captivating creature in my arms. The only one who has even been close to tempting me in far too long. Losing all restraint, I dip my head and capture her lips in a kiss.
Kat instantly yields softly to me, as malleable as the dough we created together. As I lift one hand to cradle her delicate jaw, she sighs against my mouth, her body melting into mine. I keep the kiss slow and sweet, submitting to the flickering feelings she is somehow invoking in me.
I never submit.
When we finally part, Kat blinks up at me with eyes full of wonder. Her cheeks are endearingly pink and I can't resist brushing back a flour-dusted strand of hair from her lovely face. I have no idea when exactly it happened, but it has. Kat has opened up a part of me that I’ve long since closed off.
Which makes this absurd bet with Emrys and Wyatt even more personal. For me? It’s more.
And I intend to win.
"What do you say we finish making this pasta?" I suggest gently.
Kat smiles. "I'd like that."
As we return to our task, playfully bumping hips to music I have piping through the speakers, I know I'm right where I'm meant to be. We work side by side shaping the pasta dough into long, silky ribbons, and as we fall into an easy rhythm, I decide to take a chance.
"Tell me more about what made you get into animal welfare," I prompt gently.
Kat smiles softly, eyes faraway. "Growing up, animals were my best friends."
She pauses shaping the fettuccine, before blinking rapidly. I sense there's pain behind her words that she usually keeps locked away.
"You already know I’m a closet romantic. But I used to be very open back when I was younger. I thought every boy I met could be prince charming, until I was forced to realize that maybe romance was just far better in books. But animals? Their love far outweighs even the most well crafted story. They’re pure and unconditional in every way."
She shakes her head ruefully. "Pretty corny, I know. But even as a kid, I'd daydream about having my own wildlife sanctuary one day. A safe place for animals who need protection and care. They deserve it."
Her passion ignites something deep within me. My fingertips graze hers comfortingly. "That's a beautiful dream, Kathryn."
She gifts me a watery smile before taking a breath. "What about you? What drew you to law initially?"
I tie off the pasta batch, mulling over how much to reveal. "Honestly? My family pushed me towards it. Coming from a long line of esteemed lawyers, it was expected."
I meet Kat's earnest gaze. "But the real draw was the chance to help people in need. Fight for justice, you know?" I trail off with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Rather idealistic sounding now. The reality of cutthroat law wore me down quickly."
Kat bumps my shoulder gently. "I don't think it's naive at all. That instinct to protect is noble." Her approval means far more than it should. “So why Book-A-Boyfriend?” She switches gears and I clear my throat.
“It pays really well, and after living off my savings for too long and not really knowing what comes next, I needed some kind of income until I figure it out. So here we are.” I shrug and she smiles.
“Well, I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.”
We work in thoughtful silence for a moment, the mood turning comfortable once more. Soon we've got pasta dough drying on the racks and chocolate custard base blended for the soufflés.
As we wait for the oven to preheat, Kat surprises me by bringing up a new topic. "Want to hear about my most embarrassing high school crush?"
I grin, intrigued. "Do tell."
"His name was Devon and he was a senior when I was a lowly freshman," Kat begins with an exaggerated dreamy sigh.
I settle in to listen, enraptured as she regales me with the tale of her attempting to flirt with this aloof older heartthrob, only to get rejected at an utterly disastrous school dance. Her unrestrained giggles are contagious.
"Hey now, at least you were brave enough to put yourself out there," I point out. "My pathetic teenage self could barely speak around girls without stuttering."
Kat's eyes light up. "No way, the suave Wyatt, flustered by girls?" Her clear delight makes me want to tell her more.
Before I know it, we've swapped countless stories from our pasts, laughter and understanding flowing easily between us. With the desserts baking, we settle in and eat our pasta.
