He drummed his fingers on the counter. “Should I get a measuring cup or something?”
When I looked over at him, I saw how deeply he was contemplating, and I couldn’t help but roll my lips to hide my smile. “It’s not rocket science,” I assured him. “You can eyeball it. I promise it’ll be fine.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, but the corner of his mouth tipped up. “Alright…if you say so.”
There was a soft rustling as Gabe uncurled the top of the bag. And then a cough.
I stepped back as a soft cloud of white dust billowed, settling around him like a snowstorm.
“Oh my gosh.” I stifled a laugh. This time, I stepped over to the sink, quickly washing and drying my hands so I could help him clean up. “It’s everywhere. I’ve…never seen that happen before.”
When he turned toward me—the flour covering parts of his face in a fine powder and the top of his dress shirt—I couldn’t hold my laugh in.
Gabe reached up, trying to dust the flour off his shirt…which didn’t quite work. He spread the flour over the fabric, making it worse.
“Here, let me—” I stopped him. First, I handed him a clean towel so he could wipe his face. Then, I grabbed another clean dish towel and wet it with cold water. I gently pinched the fabric, trying to shake off any loose flour, before blotting where it had stuck most.
“You promised it would be fine,” he grumbled, wiping the powder off his face. There was amusement in his tone. He didn’t seem angry or frustrated.
“I thought it would!” I let out a giggle. I lifted my head, peering up at him, which was a mistake given how close we were. How easily I could see the golden flecks in his eyes, the light stubble grazing his jaw. “I told you, this has never happened to me.”
“Hm…never?” he hummed.
I looked down and moved to another spot on his shirt. I shook my head to answer.
“It would be a shame if it happened right now, huh?”
I furrowed my brows, not following. “I mean, I guess. But the bag is already open.”
When I looked back up at Gabe, the flicker of amusement on his face gave his plans away immediately.
“You wouldn’t…” My eyes widened as I prepared to take a step back.
Gabe was faster.
I hadn’t realized it, but his ammunition was already loaded. He tossed a small handful of flour in my direction, creating a cloud between us.
I waved my hand in front of my face but didn’t want to waste more time. Instead, I lunged toward the bag, wanting to get my own fistful of flour to toss at him. I succeeded, but so did he, both of us lobbying a throw.
Flour was flying everywhere, the white dust creating a thin layer on the floor and counters. I wasn’t thinking about the mess or how we’d have to clean it up. I was simply letting myself enjoy the moment with him. I used the back of my forearm to wipe my forehead, eyes flicking between the bag and Gabe. If I could get one more throw…
“You’ve started a war, you know,” I informed him, my cheeks hurting from my wide smile.
His lips spread into a smile that matched mine. “Oh, I know. Knew you were a fighter from the moment I met you.”
I quickly reached to grab more flour and tossed it at Gabe, but it came at a cost. As I prepared to run to the other side of the kitchen, Gabe’s arm wrapped firmly around my waist— like when we’d first met. He hauled me against his chest to keep me in place.
My breath hitched at how his broad chest pressed against my back. How the heat radiated from his body. While my mind might have won earlier, my body won this time. My feet stayed firmly planted. I glanced at him over my shoulder.
“Should we call a truce?”
His grip on my waist lessened—and I knew I shouldn’t have been disappointed, but a small,smallpart of me was—enough for me to turn around to face him. My lower back pressed up against the edge of the counter, my hands wrapping around it. He moved his arm from around my waist, setting both of hishands on the counter to box me in. Our hands weren’t touching, but if I moved my fingers an inch, I’d feel his skin on mine. If I leaned forward, my chest would be pressed against him.
The smell of his cologne—warm, fresh, and masculine—once again invaded my senses. There was some sweetness beneath the heat, too. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I didn’t think I’d be able to forget his scent even if I tried.
I swallowed, finally looking up at him. His eyes were already on me, watching closely and intently.
“What do you say?” His voice was low, as if he was inviting me to lean forward. Tempting me.
