I tilt my head. “Just because something’s always been a certain way, doesn’t mean that’s the way it always should be. And if anyone’s gonna lead the way, it’s you.”
“You give me too much credit,” she mutters. “The baking stuff is over here.”
Following her pointing hands, I find a few of the basics I need for cookies, and start piling everything up on the counter haphazardly. I need to think, and I always think better in the kitchen.
“Your turn,” Jess turns the tables back on me. “What’s going on with you and the Cohurts?”
I choke. “The Cohurts?”
She clicks her tongue. “Don’t change the subject.”
I frown into my dough. “Nothing. I haven’t forgiven them.”
Sneaky alphas. Sneaky alphas and their little sneaky gifts and sweet words.
I’m starting to waver. Not that I’m ready to forgive them, or to forget.
But for the first time, I’m starting to think about the longer-term.
Plunging my hands into the bowl, I yelp as a cloud of flour envelops me. “Shit!”
“Shortcake. What are you making?”
I jump at the sound of the throaty purr. Waving my hand to dissipate the cloud, I look around, my heart pounding as I catch sight of a violet-eyed alpha with messy black hair leaning through the low, open window.
“Jax.” Swallowing, I give him a nod. “Good morning.”
“You look better.” His voice softens, his eyes scanning me. Turning away, I start shaping balls of dough. “I feel better.”
I do. Stronger. More myself.
“Well, you look like perfection.”
Damn it. I’m blushing.
I’m not falling for it.
I cast around desperately, and my eyes land on the bag of flour.
What did Jess say?
Vengeance is a dish best served to alphas who have royally fucked up.
My lips curve as I grab the open bag. “Jax?” I ask, swinging my head around with a woeful look. I even throw in a lip wobble for good measure. The sensual expression slides off Jax’s face so quickly it’s almost comical, replaced with concern and more than a tinge of panic. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s something wrong with the flour,” I sigh dramatically. Jess coughs in a really obviously-trying-not-to-laugh way, and I purse my lips.
Maybe subterfuge isn’t my strong point.
Jax doesn’t know that though, because I can see him trying to look genuinely concerned over my flour. “Uh – do you want me to go and get you some more?”
“Have a look,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek. “See what you think.”
As he peers into the open bag, I smack the bottom, sending a massive cloud of flour directly into his face.
He’s covered. His hair, his eyes, his nose…
Oh, wow. There’s quite a bit more flour than I expected.
