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“Cole?” She sounded sleepy, like maybe she was still in bed, the mental image increasing the tally of how many times she’d made him veer off the road by one.
“Morning. Did I wake you?”
She made a little moan while sheets rustled across the line.Make that two.“I’m up, just lying here pretending I’m not. Are you leaving?”
“Not without my coat.”
“Riiight,” she said slowly. “About your coat. It…might need to be ironed.”
“Why’s that?”
“I may have…slept in it.”
His tires chewed up shoulder gravel.
“Was that your car? Are you okay?”
“A squirrel,” he choked out, the thought of Mira in his coat and nothing else making every drop of blood in his body shoot south. “Just barely missed him.”
“Lucky squirrel.”
Thunder rolled in the distance. “Are you wearing it right now?”
“Yes.”
“Holy hell,” he wheezed.
“I’m sorry, but it’s”—she paused, and he imagined her arms stretching over her head, his coat riding up the length of her thighs—“comfy.”
He liked that, that something of his made her comfortable. He liked it so much he almost offered to let her keep the coat. But he was a selfish man, and he needed a reason to see her one last time before he left. “Keep it warm for me. I’ll be there soon.”
* * *
Puttinghis car in park in front of Glazed and Confused, he peered through her window. The lights in the bakery were dim, a CLOSED BUT STILL DELICIOUS sign hanging on the door. Tilting his rearview until his reflection shone back at him, he ran his fingers through his hair, making it look just the way he liked it—a touch chaotic but still on the safe side of bedhead. The perfect amount of stubble shadowed his chin, enough to look rugged, but not so much he looked sloppy. Repositioning the mirror, he killed the ignition and stepped out of his car, squinting up at the moody morning sky that already smelled like rain.
He knocked three times on her door, then, after a moment, knocked twice more. He was about to pull his phone out and text her when the sound of footsteps running down the stairs stilled his hand, whipping his head up. Maude Alice had been right. He was a dog, and Mira was definitely his treat.
She’d swept her hair up into an untidy bun, and the shade of pink flushing her cheeks was one he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before, like rose but brighter, a new color.Mira Pink. She was barefoot in black leggings and a loose gray sweatshirt that hit mid-thigh, the collar cut off, the frayed fabric slipping off her bare shoulder. It was the kind of outfit meant for curling up on the couch with a mug of hot tea and a movie. It was the kind of outfit meant for cuddling.
“Hi,” she said, a little breathless when she opened the door. “Oh, wow.” She looked up at the sky. “It’s going to rain, isn’t it?”
“Cats and dogs.”
Stepping away from the door, she motioned him inside. “Come in, come in. I’ll, um, get your coat.”
While she disappeared behind the counter, he inhaled the sweet bakery scent of cookies and frosting and freshly baked bread. “Good lord, it smells amazing in here. How do you do anything but eat all day long?”
“I definitely have my moments,” she called back to him. “I used to be skinny before I took over running the bakery.”
“Thank fuck you did,” Cole said under his breath.
She emerged from the kitchen bearing his coat in one hand, a Glazed and Confused box in the other, and a smile that made him stagger back a step. “I made you some to-go treats. For your drive.”
“You did?”
She nodded, her bun bobbing up and down.
When he raised the lid, revealing two black and white cookies, a Boston cream pie, and one of those tarts she’d made them for breakfast yesterday, he tried to think of something to say, but he had a hard time finding his words. She’d put this box together for him. She’dthoughtabout him. It meant more to him than it probably should have, than any sane man with a single shred of self-preservation left would let it. But he’d spent most of his romantic life being the giver of gifts, almost never the receiver. “This is amazing, Mira. Thank you.”
