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Especially when there are a lot of pretty girls from town who are perfectly single and also looking for a boyfriend…
I think small towns know too much about each other if strangers are that unequivocally appealing. Maybe too much honesty does come with its own set of drawbacks.
Everyone knows everyone’s baggage and their mistakes…and their true selves…
The sound of a Jeep pulling up has my inner thoughts cutting out and eyes widening in horror.
I dart a look to the mirror, not looking even a little bit pretty. My robe is covered in as much icing and cake batter as the rest of me.
He got all excited that first time I handed him the recycled brownie gift. I wanted to bake my own goods and keep with town tradition for wooing a guy.
This can’t be happening right now! I still have to dress up the ugly cake with the strawberries I spent thirty minutes cutting up.
The door swings open, and I freeze in place, half worried this might seem weird, now that I think about it. We haven’t spoken in over a month, and now I’m in a robe and making a mess in his kitchen because my cabin was crawling with men…before I even got back.
How did people know I was coming back?
Did Lilah tell them?
Kai walks in, and my thoughts all vanish as I stare at him like it’s the first time I’m seeing him. My heart almost kicks my chest open.
He runs a hand through his longer strands of hair that now flop over his forehead. His beard is a little less groomed, but it still looks damn good on him. His forearms flex as he tosses his coat to the chair, seeming a little angry as he does so.
Shit. He’s not in a good mood. At all.
I can tell by the way that muscle tics along his jaw. I’ve never seen him look this upset.
He curses and kicks at the air, and he runs a hand through his hair again as he stalks to the bedroom, never once glancing in my direction.
Great. Now our reunion is going to be awkward because I’m intruding on a private moment after letting Nila convince me that letting myself into his house uninvited was an okay thing to do.
I’m an idiot.
This is why I fail at seduction.
My timing is always off and my efforts are always poorly executed.
A large duffle bag flies out of the room, and it thunks heavily against the floor when it lands. Is he going somewhere?
My timing is truly terrible.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The ensemble I have on under this robe just makes me feel ridiculous now. I was really excited about my plan until I remembered how terrible I am at the two key points of the plan—baking and seduction.
A backpack comes flying out of the room next, and it clangs against the ground next to the duffel.
I rock back on my heels, distractedly putting some of the strawberries on the sad, ugly cake just to busy my hands.
Kai stalks out, rifle in hand, and his eyes finally land on me—the girl standing in his kitchen with her robe on as I fail Julia Child and Marilyn Monroe.
When he simply stares at me with those wide, unblinking eyes, not speaking, I nervously clear my throat. My gaze flicks to the bags in the floor and then to the rifle in his hand.
“I guess I came at a bad time,” I tell him, fidgeting awkwardly.
This was already wreaking havoc on my nerves. Now, as he keeps simply staring at me like this is all too sudden, I start realizing what an absolute ass I am.
“Sorry,” I tell him, wiping my hands off. “In my head this was a good idea, but now I’m starting to realize how rude it is to show up unannounced and without any warning. I guess I should have—”
I stop talking abruptly when he leaps over the downed luggage and drops the rifle to the floor. My eyes widen as he crosses the distance between us with a few long, quick strides.
All the nervous energy quickly transitions into relief when he grabs me at the waist and jerks me to him. His arms close around me, and he hugs me to him almost too tightly.
I smile against his chest as my own arms circle his waist, hugging him back.
“I thought I was seeing things,” he says on what sounds like a weary breath, squeezing me so tightly that it almost hurts.
“Can’t. Breathe,” I state on an exaggerated wheeze.
His arms loosen just barely, and I feel him smile against my forehead where his lips are pressed.
“Did you bake? I probably should have noticed my house smells like a dessert before now,” he murmurs, backing me up to the counter.
“I tried to bake. It didn’t work out so well,” I confess.
