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He doesn’t reply. Instead, he leads me into the little bakery a few doors down, back the way I came from.
Another wave of embarrassment flushes through me.Oh my god, he’s going to replace my cookie.
“No.” I wave my hands in front of us. “I really don’t need one. I shouldn’t have gotten it in the first place.”
Self-deprecation is an instinct at this point. A product of growing up with a mother whose skinniness was a result of poor nutrition and drug use. Growing up in a society that has only just started to appreciate bodies of all sizes. Growing up feelingless thanbecause I always had to dig to the back of the clothing rack to find something that fit.
“Nonsense.” Dom blows off my comment as we stop behind the one other person in line. “Every flight should start with a cookie.”
I mean, I agree. Which is why I bought one for myself. But he doesn’t exactly look like the type of person who indulges in desserts. Unless he spends every morning in the gym.
I glance at his chest, trying to tell if I can see hints of more tattoos through his white shirt or if I’m imagining it.
The person ahead of us takes their purchase and moves away so Dom can step forward.
“Three chocolate chip cookies, please.” He looks back at me. “Need a drink?”
I shake my head, not even bothering to protest at this point.
I’ll just let the man buy me a cookie, and then I’ll put it in my bag and wait until I can eat it in private, huddled against the window on the plane.
But then I consider the possibility of getting chocolate on the interior of my brand-new backpack, and it makes me want to gag.
Dom accepts the paper bag from the cashier, three cookies inside, and I sidestep around him, making way for the next person in line, before walking out of the tiny bakery.
I can feel his presence at my side before he holds out one of the cookies for me.
When I hesitate, he lifts it an inch higher. “Indulge my bossiness this one last time.”
“I was always warned about taking candy from strangers,” I murmur, even as I take it.
“Good thing it’s not candy,” Dom replies.
I can’t help my eye roll.
“Shall we?” He gestures toward our gate with the remaining two cookies, which are stacked bottom to bottom.
Before I answer, I look at the backpack still slung over one of his shoulders. “Will you let me carry my bag?”
“Nope.” Dom shakes his head once, then takes a giant bite of his double-decker cookie.
“I feel like I should probably argue with you one of these times.”
“Why?” Dom takes another bite.
“Because.”
His lips quirk as he drapes a heavy arm over my shoulders and starts us down the hall. “Life is too short not tolean in, my Valentine.”
My Valentine. Jesus.
I follow his direction literally and lean into his side.
His body is firm and warm and… I inhale and almost groan.
He smells like sex appeal.
Like someone took every secret desire I’ve ever had and bottled it up into an exclusive cologne that only my soulmate could wear and get away with.
