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“I will always be interested in the truth when it comes to you.” There was a growl to his voice that I liked tremendously.
“Good. The truth is, I have to go back to the shop and spend all night cooking. Miley and Brynn can handle most of the recipes, but the more complex candies have too many components. They’re also most of our best-sellers, so there’s no way around going in tonight. How far apart can we be before there are negative effects? And what happens when those effects set in, exactly?”
“The effects are unique to the individual. Most people report obsessive thoughts and paranoia about their mate. It’s more of a drive to get back to their side than full-on psychosis.”
Well, that still sounded crappy to me.
Rafael added, “I don’t know how far apart we can be without setting it off, but it’s not worth testing right now. My hunger is sated for the moment, but it will take time for my body to reach equilibrium. We can’t do anything to set my magic off any more than it already is.”
That was fair.
And he wasn’t putting up a fight about me running the shop, which seemed like a good sign.
“Alright, you can help me,” I said. “But I amveryparticular. If you can’t follow directions, I’ll make you sit at the tables, as far from the kitchen as possible.”
He gave me an amused grin. “I’ll be the best assistant you’ve ever had.”
“Don’t push it.”
He chuckled, and I fought a smile.
Rafael filledour bowls with the pasta his brother had made, then quickly stored the rest in the fridge before we headed out. He seemed to be in a much better mood than he had been before he fed from me, and I couldn’t say I minded it.
I could—anddid—ignore the soft smoke that danced lightly over my skin, though. And the vibrant red of Rafael’s, too.
He didn’t get off when we fed from each other, which hadn’t passed my notice. He had yet to bring it up, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to.
The food was hot and smelled incredible, so when he asked for my keys, I reluctantly handed them over after making sure he had a license.
He did.
I gorgedmyself on the best pasta I’d had in years while he drove. My music played from the car’s sound system, filling the air with the laid-back pop I preferred. Neither of us said anything, but it wasn’t awkward.
Just relaxed.
Miley texted the list into our group chat, and I looked over it to make sure I’d been right about what I needed to remake.
I was.
It felt nice to be right about what my customers wanted, but there was a very solid amount of work to do. I was up for the challenge, but I probably wouldn’t finish until around the time the shop opened.
Rafael foundmy shop without any navigational help on my part, parking in my usual spot without pause. Sophie would’ve finished closing up an hour earlier. So, as I expected, the shop was empty and dark when we stepped inside.
“It smells incredible in here,” Rafael remarked, taking everything in with much more interest than he had the first time he was there. Whether that was because he had been starving, or because he hadn’t known I owned it, I wasn’t sure.
“Always does,” I agreed, setting my stuff down. He took a seat in our small break room, starting on his pasta while I tied my apron on. “Do you drink coffee?”
“I used to.”
Something told me theused totranslated tobefore prison.
“What’s your favorite?”
“Whatever tastes the least like coffee.” He flashed me a playful grin, and my lips curved upward.
Honestly, that didn’t surprise me at all.
I made him a pumpkin spice latte, since they were the most popular at the moment, and left him with it while he ate. He looked surprised when he accepted it, and thanked me twice before I got started.
