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Then his smile grew bigger and my stomach dropped fast and hard.
Lord help me. The man could probably make a woman orgasm simply by smiling at her.
“I wish I could say I didn’t, but unfortunately I do.”
Huh. Interesting. Old girlfriend? Old lover? Either way . . . lucky bitch.
“She’s an old . . . family friend.”
Yep. Old girlfriend.
“That is a roundabout way of not saying she’s an old girlfriend.”
I thought he was going to fall over laughing. “Now that made my day, agapiméni. Vivian and me? No. Not a chance in hell. She’s honestly an old family friend who wanted more with me than I wanted with her.”
Agapee what? I had no idea what he called me, but it made my insides melt and I was pretty sure if he told me to drop to the ground and get ready for him, I’d do it willingly.
Nodding, I lifted my brows. “Ah. I gotcha. Anyway, thank you for stepping in. Dessert is on me. Pick anything you want.”
I didn’t think his smile could get any better, but I was wrong.
Cue the dimples.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure I just moaned out loud.
WHAT. IN. THE. Fuck.
I just called this woman sweetheart. I never called women pet names and I certainly never said it in Greek. She showed no reaction which confused the hell out of me.
My heart was racing, and I had to fight to pull my eyes away from hers. Her smile about knocked me off my feet, not to mention the angelic way she spoke.
What is this weird feeling in my chest? Jesus. Snap out of it, Drivas.
It finally dawned on me she asked me a question when she tilted her head and scrounged her nose in the most adorable way. Fuck. All I could think about was having her under me.
“What was that?” I asked.
She laughed, and it hit me square in the chest. The warmth that spread through my body was something I’d never experienced before. It left me feeling both confused and turned on as fuck.
“Dessert is on me.”
Fuck yes. I’d lick dessert off of this girl’s body any day. I could only imagine the beautiful body hidden under all those clothes.
Nodding, I motioned for her to lead the way back over to the display.
“How long have you been open?” I asked while I examined the treats before me. Everything looked amazing.
“Four years.”
My head snapped up. “What? You’ve been here for four years? Always as a bakery?”
She giggled. “Yep.”
I ran my hand over my stubble as I thought about how I’d never seen this little bakery before. “How have I missed this?”
Shrugging, she replied, “Do you live nearby?”
“Not really. I just got back from looking at a little house over on Twenty-third and Kiowa St.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “The blue one?”
“Yeah, some asshole keeps outbidding me. I went to look at it again to see if I wanted to put in one more offer.”
Her cheeks blushed and I couldn’t help but notice how her blues eyes lit up. Chewing on her lip, she mumbled, “Um.”
The corners of my mouth rose into a smile. “You’re the asshole, aren’t you?”
Pressing her lips together tightly to keep from laughing, she nodded. “I am.”
“Damn, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to call you that.”
She waved me off. “It’s okay, how would you have known, right? Besides, I pulled my offer earlier today.”
My eyes traveled her body again. Well, what little of it I could see now that she was behind the counter.
“What? Why did you pull your offer?”
Another customer walked into the bakery, but the other girl who was helping me earlier walked up to them.
“I’m opening a wine bar upstairs on the second floor. With the amount of work going into that, there was no way I could put time into another project.”
“A wine bar, huh? I like wine.”
What the hell? I like wine? Where in the hell is my game?
Her brow lifted. “Well then, you’ll have to stop by on opening night.”
“I’d like that.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds before she broke away and looked down to the desserts. “So, do you have a favorite Italian dessert?”
Glancing again over the desserts, I saw the panna cotta. I loved panna cotta. The creamy custard-like dessert was one of my favorites.
“I’ll give your panna cotta a shot.”
She smirked. “You’ll never look at panna cotta the same again. It was my great-grandmother’s recipe.”
“Don’t you think before I taste your panna cotta I should get your name?”
Seriously?
If I could, I’d punch my own face right now.
What is this girl doing to me? Everything I say makes me sound like an idiot.
There went that radiant smile again. Her blonde ponytail swung around as she turned her head to cover the blush in her cheeks. Peeking back at me, she answered. “Gabi Mandola. And yours is Nic Drivas.”
