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“I might fire you anyway.” I smirked and threw my gloves at him.
He caught them easily. “Don’t excite me like that.” He nudged me toward the door.
I let out a heavy breath while I forced my feet to move, more nervous than I had ever been. It had been four weeks and two days since I’d seen Eric. Not like I was counting or anything. I looked down at my pink apron covered in flour and frosting, wishing I looked a little nicer, but there was no time to change. Now that it was June, wedding season was in full swing. Which meant I didn’t have time for distractions. Not that Eric would want to distract me. I mean, he’d ignored me for thirty days. He probably just came in to . . . well, I had no idea why he would come here. It’s not like he was a huge fan of cake, except he had loved the strawberry cake I’d made him. Or maybe he’d just said that so he didn’t hurt my feelings. I told myself that I would just go out there, find out why he was here, and come right back. That sounded like a good, mature plan.
With a heavy breath in and out, I pushed the swinging doors open. Leann stood near the cash register wearing a big grin and pointed to the corner table where Eric always sat when he came in here. Wow. He looked good. His dark hair had grown out some, and his stubbled cheeks were making me weak in the knees. He caught me staring at him, and we locked eyes. And though he smiled, I could tell something was off. It’s not like he was a happy-go-lucky guy by any means, but I’d been around him enough to know that his smile was subdued.
Eric stood, and I walked around the counter toward him, trying my best to refrain from knocking down my customers so I could run and throw my arms around him. What was it about him that made me want to act like a hormone-crazed teen?
“Hello,” Eric crooned when I reached him.
His rich voice had me grabbing on to a chair for support. “Can I help you with something?” I eked out, trying to pretend he had no effect on me whatsoever.
He stepped closer; his spicy cologne was doing its best to seduce me. “You don’t sound happy to see me.”
I gripped the chair tighter. “I have no emotions one way or the other about it.” Mateo was right, I was a bad liar.
His beautiful eyes sparkled, amused. “Did you not like the article I wrote?”
“You wrote an article?” I feigned any knowledge of the beautiful piece I’d memorized. “Is it about someone I know? Someone, perhaps, who you promised to send it to before you published it?”
The smile vanished from his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your approval or personally send you a copy after it was published. I’ve been busy and . . .”
“And what?”
His eyes lowered. “I thought it would be better that way.”
I knew it. He was purposely avoiding me. I pushed off the chair, trying to put some distance between us, for the good of my heart. “Why are you here now, then?”
He closed the gap between us, not giving my heart a break. He tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. “I missed you.”
“Oh,” I squeaked. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”
He chuckled. “You’re upset that I didn’t contact you.”
I shrugged. “Why would I be?”
He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Because you’re just as attracted to me as I am to you.”
Shivers went down my spine, making me involuntarily shake. “You told me we couldn’t see each other ever again.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “When did I say that?”
Oh. My. Gosh. I. Was. An. Idiot. “Never mind.”
He wickedly grinned. “Not never mind. I don’t recall ever saying those words to you. Why would you say that?”
My cheeks were on fire. “It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I’m going to, unless you tell me.”
I bit my lip. “I had this dream about you . . .”
His brow lifted. “You dream about me?”
“Maybe,” I breathed out.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed about. I dream about you too,” he admitted.
I rubbed my chest. “You do?”
He nodded.
I pointed to the kitchen and realized everyone was staring at us. It brought me back to my senses. “I should get back to work,” I stammered.
Eric took my hand. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
I faltered, surprised by this turn of events. “Are you asking me on a date?”
He swallowed hard and steadied me. “Yes.”
My heart leapt at the same time my head reminded me I was cursed. Or was I? Maybe the book’s silence meant something. Or maybe I was just trying to fool myself because I had never wanted anything more than to go on a date with Eric. But where would it lead? I was opening a door that would eventually have to be slammed shut for his safety. But . . . was it so bad to go on a date?
