“Good.” Eliza tried to create distance between them, digging the edge of the metal counter into her lower back.
“So, we can be friends?” Grant asked, his husky tone sending shivers skittering up her spine.
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, although she’d stopped listening. His lips were so close, she felt his warm breath on her skin.
Instinctively, she tilted her head back, her eyelids drifting shut.
Then the kitchen timer wailed.
* * *
Startled, Grant took a step back, readjusting his glasses as Eliza slipped on a pair of oven mitts.
As he watched her yank open the oven door, thick clouds of steam wafting toward her flushed face, Grant tried to get a grip on his emotions. He wasn’t sure what had come over him. When he’d arrived at the bakery, he had every intention of clearing the air between them. Possibly rekindling a friendship. Or at the very least, he’d hoped to get back on speaking terms.
But after they’d danced…
Grant’s heartbeat quickened simply thinking about it. She fit so perfectly in his arms. And her scent! She smelled faintly of brown sugar, sweet and completely intoxicating. Grant couldn’t think straight, wondering if her lips would taste the same.
Eliza slid the baking sheet on top of the stove and removed her oven mitts, gently grazing one of the pillowy mounds with her fingertip. “Perfect timing.”
Grant would have dwelled on the double entendre, except the tempting aroma of dark chocolate flooded his senses. He noticed the faintest whiff of something else, too. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Those smell incredible.”
“Thanks. I hope they taste okay. It’s a new recipe.”
“You always were an artist in the kitchen.” Grant smiled as memories of afternoons spent baking together filled his mind. “Do you need a taste tester? I’m happy to oblige.”
“How generous of you,” Eliza laughed.
“You know me. Always willing to help in the kitchen.”
Eliza blushed, as if she recalled a few memories of her own. “They might need a little more time to set.”
“Remember, the soft melt-in-your-mouth cookies are my favorite.”
“I remember.” Eliza averted her gaze, the pink tint to her cheeks deepening.
Yeesh. Being friends would be harder than he’d thought. Grant couldn’t seem to manage going two seconds without referencing their shared history.
Grabbing a slotted spatula, Eliza slid a cookie onto a plate, handing it to Grant.
As he tore off a bite-size morsel, aromatic steam escaped from the center, making his mouth water. As soon as the rich, gooey chocolate collided with his taste buds, Grant released a groan.
“Is it good?” Eliza bounced on her tiptoes, her eyes shimmering expectantly.
“It’s amazing,” Grant mumbled, going in for a second bite.
“Hooray! I was really hoping it would be. I need plenty of fresh, original desserts to add to the menu.” Sidling up next to him, she pinched a bite-sized piece, plopping it in her mouth.
For a moment, Grant forgot all about the sugary perfection melting on his tongue, completely enamored with Eliza stealing food off his plate, just like old times.
“Oh, wow. They reallyaregood.” Eliza closed her eyes, a smile playing about her lips.
Grant chuckled. Only Eliza could praise her own work while still being endearingly humble and genuine. “Have you decided on a name?”
“I’m thinking of calling them Mochaccino Truffle Cookies.”
“Sothat’swhat it is!” Grant snapped his fingers. “I couldn’t figure out the extra kick. You added coffee to the batter?”
