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He nods his head and then hops onto the chair, diving right back in where he left off.
It takes me no time to whip up the filling. I decided to keep it simple: vanilla buttercream. I fill a couple of piping bags with the mixture, setting them down as I wait for the macarons to finish.
I glance at the mixing bowl and can’t help myself. I drag a finger along the rim, taking my finger into my mouth as I close my eyes and savor the sweet taste.
Perfection. But when I open my eyes, I see perfection.
Wyatt’s staring at me. No. It’s different than that. His eyes are doing what my mouth just did to my finger. They’re devouring me. Savoring me. Taking me in like I’m some sort of aphrodisiac.
It’s only a few moments later that I realize my finger’s still in my mouth. There’s buttercream still on my lips. And there’s no chance that Wyatt will be taking his eyes off me anytime soon.
This man is pure sex in the flesh after a long day of work. I watch him as he watches me, taking off his hat and striding toward me.
“Howdy, Luke,” he rasps, eyes still on me as he sets the hat down on the table and ruffles Luke’s hair.
“Hi, Dad,” Luke says, still focused on building the castle in front of him, completely unaware of the gaze his dad is leveling at me.
Thump, thump, thump. Each step Wyatt takes rattles my body, and I’m thankful for involuntary breathing or else I’d have passed out for the second time in Wyatt’s presence.
“How was your first day?” Wyatt asks.
My gaze winds its way up his dusty shirt and even dustier beard to his eyes. Dirt mixes with sweat and you’d think he’d smell sour but it’s nothing short of heavenly.
“Luke’s great,” I say, finally. “We’re making macarons.”
“Sounds fancy,” he says.
“Maybe a little, but they’re delicious.”
Why can’t I steel myself against Wyatt? Why is it that every time he’s around me I’m a complete mess? I had it together when we first met. Well, after passing out. After that, I could talk with him like I did every other person. Even though I was just as enamored, we could communicate without my heart trying to escape my chest.
I guess now that the cat’s out of the bag, and I’m no longer the mysterious Mia, the dynamic has changed. Or maybe I’m overthinking everything, as usual, and that’s making everything far more complicated than it needs to be.
Wyatt reaches towards me and my stomach flutters, but rather than touching me, he grabs the oven door.
“No,” Luke yells, dropping the Lego pieces in his hand. I can’t help but notice one of them falling onto the ground. I make a mental note to pick it up. Although… Hmm.
Wyatt laughs. “What?”
“If you open up the oven, they will take longer to bake. I’ve waited hours for these cookies, Dad.” And if that wasn’t enough, he adds, “Hours.”
Wyatt raises his hands, surrendering. “Alright. I won’t touch the oven. It’s been a long day and I haven’t eaten. Thought I might have a little treat,” he says, eyes returning to mine.
“How much longer do we have to wait?” Wyatt asks, his voice low and gruff. A rumble I feel all over my skin.
“For the macarons?”
It takes Wyatt a long beat to answer. “Of course,” he says, even though his eyes and tone make me think otherwise.
“Almost done,” I say, knots coiling tightly in my belly.
It’s another long beat before either one of us speaks as we hold each other’s gaze. Finally, Wyatt says, “I’m going to shower. I’m sure I smell like death. Oink didn’t even want to greet me when I walked in.”
I smile but then swallow it because I want to tell him that I like his scent. And I want to join him in that shower. I want to stop thinking like this, but I can’t.
“Okay,” I say.
“Will you still be here? I don’t want you to stay longer than you have to but I’d like to say goodbye. Thank you for your cookies.”
