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“Are you married?”
“What?” Her mouth fell open, and she took a step backward. “No. I’m not married.”
“Dating someone?”
“No.” She shook her head, but she was smiling again.
“So?” he said. “I don’t see the problem with me being here.”
* * *
GEORGIA
There was definitely a problem with Scott being there. The first of which was broken down directly in front of her store. People walking by wouldn’t be able to see her store. It would dramatically affect business.
Or not.
After all, it was shoulder season; most of the people in town were locals and they already knew and loved Sweetie Pies.
Still. A bright-blue and green bus also advertising pies couldn’t be good for business.
And that was the other reason Scott couldn’t be there.
Business.
She wasn’t going to have one if she didn’t get her ass back inside and start baking all the things, or relieve Lindsay at the counter soshecould start baking all the things. The last thing Georgia had time for was a ridiculously handsome man with a thick head of hair that called for her to run her hands through it, and lips that she knew would kiss her until she was begging for more.
No.
She shook her head clear of her thoughts.
She most definitely did not have time for him.
Still…
The idea of letting Scott distract her from all her worries, even for a few minutes, was an appealing thought. Averyappealing thought. If her memory served her correctly, and she was pretty sure it did, Georgia knew exactly how his kisses would make her melt, until the only thing she was thinking about was the way his hands felt on her skin, the way her stomach coiled tightly with the need that his lips drew out of her, and the way he would make her—
“Well?”
Georgia shook her head free of the daydream that had quickly and vividly taken hold of her thoughts.
“The problem,” she said slowly, “is that I have a ton of work to do. My baking list is longer than my arm and—”
“Great.”
“Great?”
“I’ll help.” Scott crossed his arms over his chest, his forearms flexed in the T-shirt he wore, even in the cool temperatures. “You know I have skills.”
Georgia laughed. “You came in last at the Mountain Mania Bake-Off.”
“Not true.” He shook his head and held up three fingers. “I came in third.”
“Only because Margie from Aspen Valley threw the competition the way she always does,” Georgia protested. But her resolve was very quickly fading away. He made her smile, and she hadn’t done much of that lately.
“Still. Third place is good enough to be your assistant baker.”
She blinked once and then twice, and, with a sly smile, shook her head. “I’m probably going to regret this, but…okay.”
