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Chapter 2
SAM
His question didn’t getan answer. Leigh jumped back a good meter or more as the shop’s kitchen and front doors both opened, practically in unison.
“Daddy!” The happy cry preceded Lennox’s run at the man who’d walked in.
“There’s my girl.” A tall, lean man caught Lennox in a hug, lifting her off her feet and twirling her before setting her on solid ground. He kissed the girl on the head, then settled his attention on Leigh, and by default, Sam. “I apologize for the interruption.”
“No apology needed.” Sam stepped forward, hand extended. “Sam Jacobs, I’m a friend of Leigh’s.”
Only the briefly raised eyebrows gave away the man’s surprise. He accepted Sam’s hand and gave it a strong shake. “Tim Irwin.”
A buzzer in the kitchen had Leigh hustling toward the back of the bakery. “That’s me. Hang on a sec before you take off, you two.” She disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing seconds later, covered nearly to the elbow in black oven mitts. “Give me a squeeze before you go to the cottage without me, kiddo.”
“I’ll feed the cat and leave a couple of lights on at the house since you’re going to be here a while,” Tim said while Lennox enthusiastically fulfilled her mother’s request.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” Tim waved his daughter over. “C’mere, Len. Let’s go kick-start summer vacation.”
“Don’t forget to text me when you get there.”
Tim acknowledged Leigh with a nod, then left with Lennox. Hand in hand, father and daughter waved until they were out of sight.
Quite the domestic scene. If Tim had walked over and kissed Leigh, it would have been a completely natural-looking gesture. Leigh’s comment about them going to the cottage without her, Tim’s casual statement about feeding the cat and leaving lights on at home… Leigh and Tim could easily be a couple. But they weren’t, right?
One way to be sure. “You’re pretty tight with your ex.”
“Tim’s not my ex.”
Damn. Not the answer he wanted to hear. “Then I owe you an apology. I wouldn’t have hit on you if I’d known.”
“You what? No, it’s not like that with Tim. It’s complicated, but we’re not together. Wait—you were really hitting on me, not just being your normal flirtatious self? Why?” Babbling and waving those giant oven mitts at him. Totally adorable.
Holding back had never been his thing. No point starting now. “Because I’ve been attracted to you since you marched up to me at the gym and asked whether personal training was just well-marketed hype, or if it was actually worth the money.” He cut around the counter and closed the distance between them by half. “And I may flirt with female clients sometimes because I know they appreciate the attention, but it’s always been the real deal with you.”
Her wide-eyed gaze tracked his movements as he took hold of the oven mitts and yanked them off, a soft gasp leaving her parted lips when the tug brought her forward, planting her palms against his chest.
“Now, are you currently off the market, or is it okay for me to hit on you again?”
“It’s okay. More than okay.”
“Right answer.” He chucked the black mitts on the counter. Cupped the back of her neck with one hand, palmed the small of her back with the other and brought her tight to his body.
“Oh my god,” she whispered as his lips brushed hers.
He pulled back enough to look at her without both of them going cross-eyed. “Something wrong?”
“No, not at all.”
“Good.” He dipped in again, only to be thwarted by a soft gasp against his mouth.
“Sorry,” she said, clearing her throat. “Okay, I’m good now. Really.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Mmmhmm, yes.”
