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“I haven’t seen him for years.”

“You haven’t gone looking for him?”

“No. I figured if he wanted to see us, he would’ve done that by now.”

I searched his eyes for signs of emotion, but he remained cool. It was Carson’s coping mechanism. He liked to hide his feelings, but he wasn’t cold. Far from it. Tactile and demonstrative, Carson always stroked my arm or hair. I’d never known a man to show so much affection.

“You’ve got a brother you mentioned once,” I said.

He nodded while kneading the dough. “He’s still alive. Just in hiding somewhere.”

“Really?”

“He’s not a good person. He’s always hung out with criminals and is a drug addict. I’ve tried to help him.” He took a breath. “He jumped bail, and I lost everything. I’ve given up on him. I kept trying to get him to rehab, but he’s a lost cause.” Carson worked the dough harder and harder the more he spoke.

“You seem upset. Sorry to bring it up.” I cupped my cheeks, watching him work.

“I’m fine. I’ve had to learn to let go.” He shaped the dough into a loaf and then placed a cloth over the tin.

“You’re not popping it into the oven?” I couldn’t believe how effortlessly he’d produced it.

“No. I’ll leave it to rise for an hour before baking.”

I smiled. “You’re not just a pretty face.”

He pulled a face at me. Even an ugly expression looked hot on him.

“I’d say that tomorrow the roads should be clear. We’ll be able to make it into the village. You can stay here if you like while I arrange a hire car.”

My heart sank. I’d hoped it would remain flooded for a few more days.

He studied me. “What’s that look?”

I played with my fingers. “I’m going to miss this.”

“So will I.” His gaze lingered.

I couldn’t get enough of him.

Going by Carson’s hungry kisses, passionate groping, and that penis that rarely went soft, it seemed like Carson felt something for me.

Pure lust, yes, but something more too.

Carsonlaughedwhenhesaw me. “It looks like you’ve fallen into the sack of flour.”

Brushing back my hair, I giggled.

When Carson left to check on the state of the road, I decided to surprise him with a cake, having stumbled on a recipe book. By the time I’d gotten the mix into a baking tray, I’d made an almighty mess.

I went to open the oven door when Carson stopped me.

“Don’t touch that. You’ll burn yourself.”

I held onto the cake tin and looked at him, puzzled.

He stared down at it as though it was something unreal. “You really made that?”

I laughed at his shock. “I did.”

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