Page 23

I snort. “Okay, that’s just as mean.”

“It’s actually a good muffin!” he defends himself, laughing.

I’m laughing now too, despite myself. I gesture to the bowl of batter on the counter. “I’m gonna try baking them at a slightly different temperature next and see what happens.”

Cruz nods. “Well, tell me when you do. I’ll be your taste tester.”

Hank strides back through the door, the sound from the mess hall getting louder and louder. “Better get out there, Cruz, before lunch is gone,” he comments.

Cruz nods, shooting a final glance back at me. “See ya around,” he says and disappears through the double doors.

I turn back to my muffins, hands on hips. Ready for batch numbertwo.

Chapter 10

Cruz

My first time seeing Addison in almost two weeks was jarring. Uncomfortably jarring. I shouldn’t bejarredby the simple existence of this woman.

And yet seeing her standing in the kitchen of the mess hall, an apron wrapped around her waist, flour smudged on her cheek and in her hair, I just about lost my breath.

I’d been thinking about her. Worried about her. I’d almost checked up on her multiple times. Spanned the distance between my cabin and hers just to check in and see if she was okay. But I always thought better of it. Convinced myself she wouldn’t want to see me, thatshe was strong enough to deal with things on her own. Because what I said to her all those days ago was true. I don’t think she’s weak. But it isn’t weak to ask for help.

My heart aches for her in a very different way now. Growing up with a little sister plagued by panic attacks, navigating the minefield of antidepressants, the tears, the hard days, the good days—it shapes your outlook on life. And suddenly Addison went from an annoying pain in my ass—albeit a cute one—to someone … real.

And I feel like a jerk for judging her so quickly.

The pale light of the full moon shines through my windows. Like any bachelor, I never felt the need for curtains. Until right now, I suppose.

I shift in bed, trying to block out the light—and my raging thoughts. Thoughts of Addison can wait until tomorrow. Because I know my mind will be consumed by her. Like it has been ever since I laid eyes on that infuriating woman.

I groan, shifting onto my back. I sigh, glaring up at the ceiling.

My stomach grumbles. I glance at the clock. I’ve been tossing and turning long enough that hunger has caught up with me.

With an irritated sigh, I sit up, grabbing a sweatshirt and pulling it over my head before donning a pair of sneakers and heading out the door of my cabin.

I walk through the brisk, summer night, my path lighted by the moon above. Maybe a sandwich will help put me to sleep. Or another of Addison’s muffins. Despite how sad they looked, they did actually taste pretty good.

I reach the mess hall, pushing through the front door into an unexpectedly lit cafeteria. I blink in surprise, looking around. “Did Hank forget to switch off the lights before leaving?” I mutter to myself, stalking across the room.

Then a creak from the kitchen door grabs my attention, and a figure appears, stopping me in my tracks. None other than Addison Thatcher stands in the doorway.

Wearing a goddamn silk, purple matching pajama set. My gaze lands on her thighs, how soft they look, how badly I want to sink my fingers into them. And then her shoulders, her collarbones, just a hint of cleavage.

I clear my throat. “You’re up late,” I comment, finding my voice.

“So are you.”

I shrug a shoulder, feigning nonchalance. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m a bit of a night owl,” she admits, then glances over her shoulder into the kitchen. “Besides, I had a bunch of muffin batter left over that I wanted to bake. Trying to see if I can make them not do that … thing again.” She shrugs softly, and my chest constricts.

“How’s it going?” I ask, taking a tentative step toward the kitchen, hoping—no, praying—she’ll invite me in.

She nods inside, turning and holding the door for me. “Much better,” she says, and as I approach, I seethat she’s right.

“Look at you,” I chuckle. “You made muffins that look like muffins.” A huge batch of them is sitting out on cooling racks, seemingly straight from the oven.