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“And he’d cup her face, tilting her head back so she has to look into his eyes.”
His actions mirrored his words.
“Then he’d wait, just a moment, as she took a deep breath, so he could decide if he was crossing a line or not.”
My heart was pounding, and I took a deep breath just like he’d said.
“Then he would do this.”
Maverick lowered his head and kissed me. Warmth instantly spread through my body, and I found myself leaning into him. It was the simplest of kisses, gentle and sweet, and I reached up to touch the side of his face when his hand moved to cup the back of my head.
But he never crossed a line.
Never went too far.
It was just… perfection.
He pulled back after a moment, his hand still at the back of my head. “Then he’d stop and wonder if he’d crossed the line after all.”
I shook my head.
No, he hadn’t.
“I—I think, in your book,” I whispered. “That’s what she might have been hoping he’d do.”
“Good to know,” he whispered back, slowly letting his hand fall. “Goodnight, Piper.”
“Goodnight,” I replied softly. “Um, I’ll save you some bread.”
His smile hit his eyes. “Good.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN – PIPER
RULE ELEVEN: IF YOU KISS IN THE DARK, DOES THAT COUNT? YOU’RE TECHNICALLY A LITTLE BLIND…
I was in so much trouble. All I’d thought about since I’d locked myself in my apartment last night was Maverick kissing me.
Well, that and the stupid way I’d reacted when he’d talked to that other girl.
It’d really been none of my business, but something inside me knew I couldn’t let him walk away last night without saying something.
I guess I just wanted him to know I did care about him.
Thankfully, he’d already been in for his bread, but I’d been knee-deep in cookie dough so I’d been able to avoid the inevitable awkward conversation so far.
Although I was kind of proud of myself for the way I’d told him I wasn’t sure.
Obviously it’d been enough because he’d kissed me.
I sighed with my fingers buried deep in some bread dough. I hadn’t been out of the kitchen today thanks to the predicted rush of the tourists, but at least I didn’t have too much of a hangover. I suspected the tiny headache was actually down to me not getting enough sleep.
That was the reason for the banger I had now.
I’d been baking almost all day, and Monday couldn’t come quick enough. I’d have to make dough later in the day on Monday, but I wouldn’t be up first thing.
In theory.
I finished hand-kneading this loaf and put it back in the bowl to rise. After covering it with clear film, I set it in the fridge, washed my hands, and sat down to take a two-minute break.
God only knew I needed one.
I pulled one of the white chocolate chip cookies from the cooling rack. It was still warm, and I practically inhaled it.
What was the time?
Oh, my God.
I’d missed lunch.
No wonder I was starving.
The only time I’d left the kitchen was to give Felicity her break. I really should have taken one after, but I hadn’t had the time. The tourists for the half-marathon had bought all the cookies and donuts, and I was having to bake at double time to replenish them. I literally hadn’t had the time to eat.
I grabbed another cookie. The problem was that I didn’t have the time to go out now—there was no way Felicity could mind both the store and the kitchen, and all the ovens were full.
I could order food to be delivered. I bet Felicity’s mom, Johanna, wouldn’t mind bringing me something over.
I grabbed my phone from my apron pocket and unlocked it. I had a few unread texts, which made sense since I hadn’t checked it all day. One was from Kinsley asking if I was okay, and I replied quickly that I was, just busy. My grandmother had sent me a message asking me to call her after dinner, and Saylor had asked me if I was making pot brownies because the bakery line was up the street.
ME: No, I’m not making pot brownies. I haven’t even had a chance to pee today. It’s so busy. What’s going on?
Her reply was instant.
SAYLOR: There’s a whole festival with the half marathon. The park is rammed. I went on a run this morning and saw it all being set up.
ME: You ran?
SAYLOR: All right, I walked through the park then stopped into your place and got a croissant. What do you want from me?
ME: LOL. That explains the tourists. We haven’t stopped all day and I just realized I missed lunch. Send help before I eat all the cookies I just made for the tourists.
SAYLOR: You need anything?
ME: Food and six thousand pairs of hands. Preferably at least one pair that can bake.
