Page 6 of Kylie’s Kakes

The hours passed quickly, but I was completely in the zone. And more productive than I’d ever been at home. Having the dedicated time to just bake allowed me to focus without getting distracted by cartoons or my phone or anything else.

I was so locked in on what I was doing that I didn’t even notice anyone else around me. There was a vague sense of others coming and going, but I didn’t even look up until I heard a frustrated swear word come out of the kitchen across from me, and I stopped mid rosette.

There was a man who also looked right at me as if checking to see if I’d heard.

I glanced away not to intrude but immediately did a double take. I knew him. It took my mind a second to catalogue the dark hair and firm jaw and smile that I was used to seeing every day at work.

It was Jordan. The coffee guy I’d been low-key obsessing over for weeks. The same one who came in every time I was working and had stayed for hours just yesterday. He was in the station across from me, looking at me with a guilty smile.

What was he doing in my kitchen? Well, not my kitchen, obviously. But he was one of the renters I hadn't noticed before. And he was clearly an impressive cook if the number of pots and ingredients at his station was any indicator.

I stood there frozen with a spatula in my hand and jaw gaping open like an idiot.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and it took a second for me to catch my breath. It didn’t make sense, but it was the same thing that happened every time he walked into The Bean Box and smiled at me like I was worth smiling at.

All I did was remember his order, but he seemed happy about it every time. Of course, I tried not to read anything into it. He was a nice person who was polite to me because I was polite to him. It was just a common courtesy.

Besides, he was way out of my league. Not only was he too hot for me, but he was also too sweet to be a Daddy. Too shy to be dominant. But that didn’t stop me from wondering what it would be like if he were to call me his baby girl and hold me in his arms.

But there was no register or power dynamic between us now.

I wasn’t a barista, and he wasn’t a customer. We were equals. Just two people renting commercial kitchen space to work on our… what was he making, anyway? I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, but now that I was paying attention, it smelled delicious on his side of the kitchen.

I glanced down at my station with the batter bowls I was about to wash and considered what the right next move would be. I could either pretend I didn’t recognize him or go say hi.

I looked up and saw that he’d also turned away and was picking up the pots he’d dropped.

I bit back a smile and started washing, except every few seconds, I had to glance in his direction. And every time I did, I saw that he was looking in my direction.

He totally recognized me, and there was no way I could pretend he didn’t.

But that still didn’t answer my question about what I needed to do next.

4

JORDAN

Kylie was in my kitchen, wearing a pink apron that had white splotches all over it. I had to assume those splotches were flour, based on the delicious aroma of pastries coming from her side of the room. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun that I wanted to run my fingers through. Or maybe brush it for her and then twist into a single braid down her back.

Fuck, she’d look good with a braid down her back as I fucked her from behind.

Well, that wasn’t even a tiny bit appropriate. She was my tenant, apparently.

When the fuck did that happen, anyway? I forced myself to look away for a full five seconds before I had to check on her again just to make sure I wasn’t imagining her. I couldn’t help myself. She was just gorgeous and sticky and happy and…perfect. More perfect than most women I knew.

While I was staring, I accidentally knocked over a pan on the edge of my counter. It crashed to the ground, interrupting my view because she looked up and caught me gawking at her like a teenager.

Smooth, Jordan. Real smooth.

It took a minute of me standing there staring before I realized she was staring too. Shit.

I picked up the pot I’d dropped, checked the lamb, and forced myself to actually look at what I was doing instead of at the woman just a few yards away from me, but my line of sight kept sliding sideways no matter how hard I tried to pin it down. What was she even doing there? She worked at a coffee shop.

There was only one way to get the information I needed, so I waited until Magda passed by and nodded for her to come closer.

She’d obviously clocked the weird tension in the air between Kylie and me because the smirk she flashed was all too knowing. “I see you’ve met your new neighbor.”

"Um, not really." I cleared my throat and turned my back so there was less chance of my voice carrying across the room. “But what’s she working on? It smells good.”