Page 102 of Elf-ish

Eventually, I still his hand and nod at the extracts, vanilla and peppermint, on the counter. “Want to do the honors?”

He glances up at me. The icy gaze is gone again, leaving only clear blue pools of hesitation. It’s always shocking how he’s so confident in some manners and cautious in the simple ones.

“It’s an exact science,” I tell him. “You just measure and pour.”

“All my life, I’ve worked with exactness. Right school. Right friends. Right clothes, job, money.”

I nod. “Well, with baking you can’t really fuck around and find out. What you’ll end up with is a mess. So in this case, exactness matters.”

Is this why Jude has been so wild in other ways? Women. Trips. Events. He’s been trying to break a mold while living within a glass dome.

We reach for the measuring spoons at the same time, but while Jude halts, I cup his hand.

“I’m right here. I won’t let you mess up.” Not the chocolates. Not his life.

He’s checked another thing off his list, and I couldn’t be prouder of him. In fact, last night I learned how very proud of him I am with his face between my thighs and mine over his dick.

I shiver a little at the quick memory, then get back to work.

“You’ve got this, Jude.” Because he has me, for as long as he needs me. As long as he wants me.

He measures out the vanilla, and then the peppermint, with shaky hands. When all is ready, the chocolate is cooled enough to add the other ingredients, then I show Jude how to drop the mixture into the candy forms.

“It will take about four hours to set but overnight is really best.”

“Four hours,” Jude pretends to look at his silver watch, which isn’t on his wrist, but on my nightstand like it belongs there. “Plenty of time to practice exactness.”

There’s something different in his eyes once again. The icy shards that turn to clear liquid now look warmer, like a summer sky. One threatening to give me a sunburn but promising I’ll enjoy the heat.

He lifts me by my hips and sets me on the short counter between my kitchen and living room, making me his pre-breakfast delicacy.

chapter 32

[Angelica]

“Do you have plans tonight?” Jude asks me after breakfast.

I shrug, leaning closer to him. We’re sitting on the two barstools that fit at my short counter between the kitchen and the living room.

“Depends,” I reply.

“On?”

“On what you want to do.”

That twitchy smile of his slowly continues to a full, soft grin. “Yeah?”

I don’t answer, just continue to watch him.

“I feel like our date the other night got interrupted by the guys in the sky box.”

I offer him reassurance. “I had fun.”

“But I still wanted it to just be us,” he hangs his head a second, picking at a piece of bacon on his plate. “And with Beau not having a rehearsal dinner, I feel like I owe you a better date.”

The brewery is now set as Beau’s wedding venue, which feels very appropriate for my laidback brother. With the small number of attendees, a rehearsal dinner would be like a second wedding, and we only need one. We’ll wing the processional the day of the celebration.

But what doesn’t sit right is Jude thinking he owes me something.