“No, it’s friendly,” he said. “You’re my friend, and you told me you’d be sad today. I didn’t want you to be alone when I could be here with you.” He flipped his dough over, still struggling to get all the flour worked in. “Plus, I haven’t seen you all week. I missed you. We’ve gotta keep up the friend end of friends with benefits.”
I chewed my lip, taking that in. “It’s really nice of you.”
“I’m a good friend,” he said with a cocky smirk.
I smacked his stomach. “Don’t get too full of yourself, Ober.”
He weaseled a kiss into my neck and stopped to whisper in my ear, “Someday soon you’re going to be full of me.”
I wrapped my dough ball in plastic wrap and stuck it in the fridge. “That door’s open whenever, bub. I'm just waiting on you to be ready."
"I need to get better at some of my other skills before I level up," he said, tearing off his own strip of plastic wrap.
“Your choice. We go at your pace,” I shrugged. “Here.”
I moved over to work his dough ball a little more. “You need more ice water.”
“More ice water. Yeah. Huh.” He hovered behind me, laying his hands over mine. “This feels familiar. Your hands guiding mine.”
I glared over my shoulder at him. “Nick Oberbeck, did you come over here to be a friend or to get the benefits?”
I wrapped his dough ball and opened the refrigerator, Nick peering in behind me. “Jesus, Markham, do you have stock in Diet Coke?”
“Why, you want one?” I teased.
“No, it’s poison! It’s frying your brain! You know, studies have shown—"
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said.
“Annie, it’s bad for you,” he whined. “I want you to live a long life and not—”
“My house, my rules, Oberbeck.”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m going to start stocking my fridge with something you’ll like better.”
I hit him with a sharp look. “Planning on having a house guest? Why would you stock your fridge for me?”
My phone started buzzing on the counter. I dusted my hands on his apron and answered it.
“Hey, Kitty!”
“Annie, thank God,” Kitty rushed out. “I’ve been texting you! The hell are you doing? I need help!”
“I’ve been baking. What’s wrong?”
Greg barked in the background. I made big eyes at Nick to get him to go shut him up.
“Is someone there with you? Whose dog is that?” Kitty asked.
“No, just the neighbor. Big dog.”
“Are you getting laid, Annabelle Markham?”
“No! I’m shooting cobwebs out of there at this point,” I lied. “What’s your disaster?”
“Guy and I put the turkey in what we thought was on time, but it’s already done. What are we supposed to do?”
“This is the emergency?”
