She shook her head at me but couldn't fight off a smile.
I could work with that—slightly exasperated but generally pleased to see me.
Rapping my knuckles against the glass, I called, "Open up. I brought breakfast." I held up the cup carrier and pink bakery box as evidence. "Can't eat these by myself. It's a bad stereotype waiting to happen."
At that, she started toward me. Once the storefront window lights flicked on, the lock unbolted, and the sign turned over, she pulled the door open. The chimes tinkled overhead and I tightened my hold on the breakfast goods. It was that or risk dropping them while I dragged her into my arms because these past days and nights without her were a special brand of agony.
"Good morning," she said, stepping aside to let me in. "This is a surprise."
"A good surprise," I said, moving toward her. "Right?"
"Good, yeah," she said. It sounded like a concession. "It's also an awkward surprise."
"How so?" I asked. I was undeterred. Nothing she had to say was slowing me down.
"Come with me," she ordered.
"With pleasure." I trailed after Annette, captivated by the sway of her full hips. I was a slave for this woman and she didn't even know it. It didn't compute that I'd followed her into the storeroom until she plucked the coffees from my hand.
"Thanks for this," she murmured, taking a sip of cold brew.
I ran my hand down her back, starved for the feel of her. "I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee," I confessed. "But I asked around. Found out you like it cold and sweet."
Annette glanced up at me, her eyes the same shade as the beverage in her hand. "You asked around?"
"I did," I said, bobbing my head as I stroked her back. I didn't want to stop touching her. Not today, not ever. "Found out you like old-fashioned cake donuts, too. Chocolate."
"Dust ruffles," she murmured.
"No dust ruffles," I insisted. "You must think I'm pretty bad at my job if I can't query a local merchant without powering up the rumor mill."
Annette sipped her coffee, her eyebrow arched especially for me. "That is not my suggestion, no," she said. "You might know your detective work but I know this town, and I know everyone and their auntie will be in here this afternoon looking for juicy bits."
"Lucky for you, I picked up coffee and donuts for most of the shopkeepers on Main Street. Everyone and their aunties will have several stops on the juicy bits tour today." She rolled her eyes but she smiled while doing it. "Just doin' my part to keep the local economy chugging along, ma'am."
"Appreciated." Annette set the coffee down and turned toward the small refrigerator tucked into the back corner. "Seems like we've both put a lot of effort into donuts."
She returned, handing me another one of her Pyrex containers. I pulled the top off and stared at the powdered sugar lumps. "And these are…?"
"My awkward donut holes," she replied, pinching one between her fingers. Raspberry jam dribbled out. Some very primitive corner of my mind found that arousing. I didn't want to understand it. "My kitchen is too small for a full-scale donut operation so I went with the holes instead. I could make regular donuts but I'd have to fry them one by one and that would take hours. It's a new dough for me, a sweet brioche. I hope they came out well."
Annette held the not-quite-round ball to my lips and I accepted, gripping her wrist to lick her fingers clean in the process. "Delicious," I murmured. "But I have one question for you."
She watched as I sucked on her index finger, her eyes hooded, lips parted. "Anything," she whispered.
"Is this awkward because we both brought donuts or because you made them for me and I trampled all over that by showing up here with your favorite old-fashioneds?"
She blinked up at me as pink dashed across her cheeks. "I wanted to work on making a good brioche," she said, a touch of defensiveness in her tone. I sucked harder. "A-a-a-and I thought you might like them. I-I knew you'd like them."
"That's right, beautiful. You know what I like," I replied. "Another question."
"I only agreed to one," Annette argued.
"I'm asking anyway," I said, lashing an arm around her waist. God, she smelled good. "If I hadn't come here this morning, were you going to walk yourself over to the station?"
"Maybe," she replied with a shaky breath. "I might've fed the firefighters instead."
"Evil, evil woman," I whispered. I took the dish from her hand and set it on the nearest surface. "You wouldn't do that, not even to spite me."
