“Yes,” I confirmed, my tone now more professional. “I accept the proposal.” Spinning towards an amused Cooper, I held out my hand. When he again took my hand in his, I ignored the warmth and shook his hand vigorously.
“You are officially my husband to be, my roommate and my boss and I’m going to bake us something to celebrate.”
The mischievous curve of his lips, half-teasing, half sinful, made my stomach flutter, although that was nothing compared to the words which left his mouth next.
“Use anything you want or need from the pantry or fridge. Mi casa es su casa,” he said in a shocking attempt at a Spanish accent, and I laughed.
“Jeez, anything? That’s basically foreplay,” I warned, and he shot me a grin which settled deep in my chest.
“Noted.” His glance was loaded with mischief, and I grabbed the bench to steady myself.
“This arrangement does not include whatever you’re thinking, Mr. Dane, so you can stop that look right now. I’m not one of your random women.” His laugh was unexpected, playful.
“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” He replied, and I felt my cheeks heat.
“Pffft,” I aimed for unaffected. “As if. Now do you prefer mint or lemon?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Mint,” he replied, studying me intently.
Refusing to look at him, I opened a few cupboards until I located the bowls. “Good choice,” I stated thoughts of chocolate, mint and biscuit forming in my mind.
“Thanks for helping me out, Evy, I really appreciate you,” the sincerity in his tone coupled with the name only he used, sent those earlier flutters into a storm and I bit my lip nervously, pausing to look at him.
“You’re welcome,” I answered genuinely. As much as I hated to admit it, I would have helped him without the payment or job offer - because it was him. “Thanks for taking me on, giving me a place to stay and organising movers. Works well for the both of us,” I admitted, knowing if he made a habit of being shirtless, this deal was weighted heavily in my favour.
He studied me for what felt like a second too long, before stating he was off to shower and I took that as my cue to put my headphones back on, throw my hair up and take another look around before I began baking up a storm in the kitchen of my dreams.
A girl could get used to this.
Hours later Coop returned from doing whatever it was he did when he wasn’t working and reached for the plate of bite-size chocolate mint slices.
“I’ve been thinking about these since I smelt them hours ago.” He handed me a drink from the fridge before joining me at the table where I was watching some new craft hacks.
“Are they as good as Judy’s?” He asked, nudging me.
“Since when has Mum made these?” I asked curiously, seizing one for myself.
“Since forever. Makes them every year on my birthday,” he replied, with a peaceful happiness.
I paused, studying him before realisation dawned. He had no idea.
“Which ones are better then?” I asked, thinking back to every single time I’d made them. The same slices I’d made for fifteen years on February 5th, because the next day was hisbirthday, and I never wanted him to go a year without someone making him some form of sweet treat. I never left a note, assuming he would know it was me, and even when he didn’t send a thank you, and I vowed to be done with Cooper Dane and making sure he had someone, the following year I would be back in the kitchen at it again.
What I didn’t realise was he thought they were from Mum. She was a brilliant baker too so it really was no surprise, but part of me had hoped he would know. Realise how I never would have let him go a year without someone in his corner. How my heart called for him even if I only allowed this for one day each year.
“Oh, these are better. Please don’t tell Judy,” he said with an appreciative moan, reaching over to seize my wrist and take a bite out of the one I was holding. “But it could also be because I can taste the love in these.”
I grabbed another, offering him a withering look, “Oh, don’t consider yourself special, fake fiancé, I always bake with love,” I teased, trying not to stare at the way his tongue darted out to lickthe edge of cream off his thumb or how he followed with that grin dancing across his face, bringing a boyish brightness to those eyes.
CHAPTER 9
Cooper
Isnapped the laptop closed, unable to stare at another word of my father’s latest email.
“Ouch,” Evangeline’s voice, quiet and unexpected from the open doorway, startled me.
“Sorry,” I offered, trying to wipe away the anger with a shake of my head. “Come in.”
