I mustered as much enthusiasm as I could before responding to Maddie. “He sure is, Maddie. I’m glad the cats came over to say hi.”
“Me, too! I can’t wait to come back.” Maddie turned back to Gabe. “Will you be here next time I come by?”
I didn’t hear Gabe’s response, because Tiffany spoke up, her voice low so only I could hear. “You two seem to be getting along. It’s so festive in here! How’d decorating go?” When I had met with Tiffany, I’d filled her in on the situation with Gabe, the building, and Hal’s conditions on making a choice.
I let out a sigh, twisting my lips in thought. “It went…better than I anticipated. It was nice to have his help,” I admitted, looking in Gabe’s direction again. “I’m still not sure about how this is all going to work out, though.”
But there was one thing Iwasmore sure about. There was a lot more to Gabe than he let on.
17
LILY
Wednesday
From the stickyconsistency of the dough, I quickly realized I needed more flour. My gaze flicked from my dough-covered hands up to the bag of flour on the shelf above me. Unless I washed my hands, there was no way I’d be getting that down without a mess.
I was about to make my way to the sink, but Gabe’s voice stopped me. “You forgot your apron.”
I looked down and realized he was right. In my excitement to get the dough prepped, I must’ve completely forgotten.
We were checking another item off the list today: making a holiday recipe for fun. When I found out Gabe had never made or frosted Christmas sugar cookies, the decision was made for us. The dough needed to chill for a few hours before we could use our festive cookie cutters.
I looked at my dough-covered hands again. “Would you be able to help me get my apron on?” I asked, looking at him over my shoulder. “And grab the bag of flour while you’re at it? I’d get it myself, but?—”
“Yeah, no problem,” Gabe answered before I finished explaining myself.
He came up behind me, his body warm and his clean, fresh scent overpowering my senses. It didn’t matter that I had a chocolate peppermint loaf baking in the oven. The cocoa and peppermint had nothing on Gabe.
He stepped behind me, lifting my hair off my neck and placing the neck loop of the apron over my head. It wasn’t until right now that I realized how intimate my request was—and howcloseGabe was to me. I couldn’t see him, since my back was toward him, but I could feel his touch. On my hair. Gently grazing my neck as he fixed the loop. And, now, on my waist as he wrapped the too-long string around me.
“How do you like it?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
I gulped. “Wh-what?”
“How do you like your apron tied?”
“Oh,” I said on an exhale, not wanting to admit where my mind had gone. “I wrap it around twice and then tie it off in the back.”
He hummed in response and followed my instructions, silence filling the space between us again. But it wasn’tjustsilence that was consuming me. All I could focus on was his low, steady breathing. The hot air fanned my neck, and I felt my cheeks getting hot. Thank goodness he couldn’t see my face.
“All set,” Gabe finally said. His voice was steady and calming, which was such a contrast to the emotions whirling through my mind. Emotions I needed to get a grip on. “Is this the bag of flour?”
I nodded with a hum of confirmation, worried if I spoke he would hear the shakiness in my voice.
I expected Gabe to reach for the flour while standingnextto me, not while standingbehindme. I gulped as he reachedforward. My body and mind weren’t on the same page, because my body was weak.
My body wanted to lean into his strong chest, press myself against him to see how we’d fit. Like a puzzle? Or like two people who had no business being together?
My mind, on the other hand, wanted to create as much distance between us as possible—and ultimately, my mind won out. I leaned forward against the counter, trying to create separation between us.
“Sorry,” he muttered against my ear as he reached forward and wrapped his large hand around the bag. The veins in his forearm flexed, and I nearly passed out right then and there.Here lies Lily. Death by hand and forearm flexing while grabbing flour.Was that a good way to go or pathetic?
“It’s fine,” I assured, although my voice came out more like a squeak, several octaves too high.
Gabe set the bag on the counter and stepped to the side. I was finally able to let out a heavy exhale.
“Would you be able to open the bag and pour a decent amount on the dough?”
