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Auctioned to the Reaper

Page 29

by Aria Cole

Her breath catches.

I don’t break eye contact.

“Not bad.”

She blinks.

“Not bad?”

“Little sweet.”

“It’s frosting.”

“Yeah. Noticed.”

She snatches her hand back.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yet you keep coming around.”

“Clearly a lapse in judgment.”

“Must be.”

I turn back to the oven before I do something stupid, like put her on the counter and remind her exactly how good I used to be at kissing her.

Twenty minutes later, the oven is humming smoothly.

I replace the panel and wipe my hands on a rag.

“Blower motor was loose. Tightened the mounting bolts. Should be fine.”

Autumn peers inside.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“You’re telling me I spent three days threatening an appliance when all it needed was a few screws tightened?”

“Story of your life.”

She smacks my arm.

I almost smile.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’m serious, Gray.”

“So am I.”

She looks up at me.

For a moment, the teasing disappears.