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Good thing I’ve known him for the better part of my life, and that smile doesn’t work on me.
My fingers flex around the cup before I put it on the counter and march to open the door.
“What?” I bite out, crossing my arms over my chest. I was still irritated with him for what happened yesterday, and I wanted him to know it.
Emmett lifts a little bag in the air. “Peace offering?”
I narrow my eyes at the bag. “You mean a bribe?”
The corner of my best friend’s mouth twitches upward. “Mom’s chocolate chip cookies.”
Damn, he knows me so well.
Not that I’d let him know he has me. “I can make my own damn cookies.”
Emmett’s smile widens. “I can see that.”
He points at my cheek. “You have a little something right there.”
Pushing his hand away, I wipe at my cheek. “What do you want, Emmett?”
Ignoring my question, his gaze moves over my shoulder, taking in the mess that’s my kitchen. “What are you making?”
The better question was, what Iwasn’tmaking.
“Muffins. With blueberries.” I quirk my brow at him. “Andextra chocolate.”
His favorite.
“Damn, Becs, you’re not playing fair.”
Serves you right.
“I never said I was.” I tilt my chin in his direction. “What do you want, Santiago? I’ve got work to do.”
“Cookies. Here.” He hands me the bag, which I reluctantly take as he slips past me. “I’m not even going to make you work for it.”
I roll my eyes at his retreating back. “So generous of you.”
“It is. Those are the best, and you know it.”
I did know it. God knows I’ve tried to replicate Mrs. Santiago’s recipe on more than one occasion, but they never tasted quite the same, and Emmett’s mom didn’t want to tell me what her secret was.
“Fine, now that you delivered your bribe, you can go.” I shoo him away, but he doesn’t move a muscle.
“You’re so lucky that sass doesn’t work on me, Becs.”
“Oh, yeah? You haven’t seen real sass yet, mister” — I jab my finger into his chest, done with playing this game — “What were youthinking?”
Emmett lifts his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t, okay?”
“Clearly!” That damn strand falls into my face, so I flick it back. “If you were thinking, none of this would have happened.”
Just saying it out loud brought back the thoughts of last night.
The shock of seeing Miguel standing in The Hut.
He was always tall, but he gained a few more inches in the last few years. His shoulders were broader, the lines of his face harder, more mature, but then there was his hair. The ends of those dark locks were still curling when he let it grow out too long. Something he was still doing, apparently.
