Page 120 of A Taste of Vanilla

“Then I know what you’re writing.”

His brows furrow as he looks me over. “A list isn’t offensive.”

“It is when it’s about my bakery.”

He looks down at the notebook. “It’s not about your bakery itself; it’s about your production flow.”

I groan. “That sounds worse, Warren.”

“I support the list,” Marley says from her position on the prep table with a ham and cheese croissant in her hand.

I gasp. “I didn’t think you’d be the one to betray me!”

She takes a bite. “This croissant is incredible, but I’m choosing honesty today.”

Oliver leans against the doorway to the alleyway between the bakery and Saints & Sinners, his arms crossed, looking far too pleased for a man who claims to hate being involved. “The list may save us all.”

I whip around. “There is no us,” I say. “This is my bakery. You’re next door and this one,” I gesture to Marley, “just hangs out all day and works in the corner.”

“My apartment gets no sunlight.” she frowns.

“It’s your bakery, but we’re trying to optimize your work.” Warren frowns.

I spin back to him, watching as his pen pauses over the notebook.

The pen.

It’s black. Not one of my sparkly pink pens from the front with the half-chewed cap. A real pen. Sleek. Probably chosen for the ink flow and professional weight.

And his hands lookso bigholding it I?—

No. Absolutely not.

My gaze flicks to Marley just in time to watch her eyes narrow.

I shake my head in an attempt to shake the picture of that same hand gripping my thigh?—

Absolutely. Not.

I turn quickly, attempting to find something… anything to get my mind off of it.

But I grab a whisk. Awhisk.

Oliver stares at me, confused. “Why do you need a whisk?”

I freeze. “I—No reason.”

Marley crosses her legs. “You look like you’re about to kill my brother with a whisk.”

“I’m not. I’m just a simple woman with tools.”

His eyes drop to the whisk before slowly lifting to mine. “Are you threatening me with a whisk?”

“No. Well. Maybe.”

His mouth almost does the thing. The almost-smile. The one that makes me absolutely desperate to earn the rest of it.

Marley slaps the prep table. “No.”