“But you heard what Prez said?”
She finally looks at me. “I heard. I also saw your rolls. They were good, Kieran, but…”
“But not first place good.”
“I didn't say that either.”
The space between us feels like miles instead of feet.
“We should celebrate… both of us making the finals.” I’m desperate to have her in my arms again and make this shit right.
She shifts her box of supplies. “Maybe after tomorrow. I really need to practice.”
“Juniper—”
“I'll see you tomorrow, Kieran.”
She walks away, and I watch her go, Colt's implication stretched between us like poison. Tomorrow I'll make sure the competition is fair, even if I have to stand over the judges myself. But right now, she thinks I cheated.
Viper appears at my elbow. “We need to be visible at the cider tent for the next hour.”
I follow him, playing my part, but all I can think about is the disappointment in Juniper's eyes.
I’m going to make this shit right. No matter what it costs me.
Chapter Five
JUNIPER
I slam my apartment door harder than necessary and lean against it, trying to process what happened earlier.
First place. Kieran got the top spot with rolls that were uneven, slightly overproofed, and heavy-handed with the cinnamon. Meanwhile, my technically perfect rolls came second.
And what was that strange comment from his MC president about donations?
I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen, needing to do something with my hands. Stanley bubbles on the counter, oblivious to my mood.
“He didn’t bribe anyone. That’s not who he is.” I tell the starter.
But how do I know who he is? We’ve known each other for two days. Two days of intense chemistry and some incredibly hot kisses. That doesn’t mean I know his character.
Except I do. He might be a big, bad, rough-talking biker, but deep in my heart, I know he’s not a man who cheats to win. He doesn’t need to.
I listen to my favorite podcast,Baking with Brienne, wash my hair, clean my apartment, try to nap, then eat dinner, and I still can’t stop thinking about Kieran. I’m about ready to godownstairs and hammer on his door when three sharp knocks cut through my thoughts.
When I open the door, Kieran’s standing there, still in his festival clothes but roughed up; hair mussed, jaw tight, those green eyes fierce.
“Juniper, I want you to understand that I didn’t bribe anyone,” he growls.
“I know.”
His brows pull together. “You do?”
“You’re many things, Kieran, but I know you’re not a cheater.”
Relief flashes across his face, quickly replaced by something darker. He steps inside without asking, the scent of leather and spice rolling off him, making my thighs clench with memory.
“Then why’d you look at me like I’d dropped your keys down a storm drain?”
