My mouth goes dry. “Um… I’m working?—”
“Take your break,” Luna says, already tugging at my apron ties. “I’ve got this. Scoot.”
Kieran waits, huge and silent, while I grab my jacket. We step outside into the October air, gold and orange leaves spinning in deep drifts on the sidewalk.
“Walk?” he asks, voice a low scrape that does indecent things to my insides.
I nod because speech is beyond me.
We head toward the town square. For a minute, the silence is easy, the kind that hums, our arms brushing now and then, each accidental touch sparking along my nerves. He matches his long stride to mine like he’s done it a thousand times in his head.
“I wanted to tell you I’ve entered the competition.”
I stop. “What?”
“The Fall Festival baking competition. I put my name in.”
Suspicion narrows my eyes. “What category?”
“Breakfast pastries.”
“My category.” I fold my arms. “You’re competing againstme?”
He smiles in a way that makes my stomach flip. “With you. Not against you, Juniper.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how competitions work.”
“It is if you’re doing it right.” He takes a measured step closer. I hit a tree before I realize I’ve backed up against it, the bark rough. He braces a hand beside my head, not touching, but caging me in anyway.
“I’m not going to sweat too hard to win the trophy, Juniper. I’m not a real baker like you.”
“Then why enter?”
His eyes drop to my mouth and I hold my breath. “You know why.”
“This is crazy,” I whisper.
“Probably.” His voice roughens. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you moved in. That first night you sang Iron Maiden off-key through the vent.” His gaze flicks to my throat, back to my eyes. “Drove me insane.”
“You don’t know me.” My protest sounds weak, even to me.
“I know enough.” His fingers hover by my cheekbone, and I lean closer before I can stop myself. “When do you finish work?”
My breath shudders out. “I need to practice tonight. My oven’s temperature gauge is faulty; it keeps switching off, and I’m behind on my prep.”
“Use mine.” The words are a command.
“I…Kieran…”
“My kitchen.” His wicked half-smile cuts through my hesitation. “My rules. In return, you can school me a little. I’m no threat to you; the least you can do is help me improve.”
“This is a terrible idea.”
Kieran pushes away from the tree, giving me space even though his eyes are locked on mine. “Seven, Juniper. Don’t make me come up and get you.”
He turns and walks off, leaving me sprawled against the trunk, pulse trying to pound out of my skin. I get myself together and walk slowly back to work. Luna whoops from the café doorway.
“What happened?” Her eyes are bright.
