“No,” she blurted, far too quickly. “No—you can’t stay here with me.”
“What would you have me do?” His mouth curved, the faintest smirk tugging at one corner. “Step back out into that?”
He nodded toward the window where lightning split the sky in a vicious fork.
“I could get hurt.”
For a heartbeat, she could only blink at him.
Of all the ridiculous things to say—at a moment like this—
she almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, the breath in her chest turned sharp as she really looked at him.
He was dripping onto the bakery floor.
Sodden.
Breathless.
Rain slicked his hair to his forehead; his shirt clung to him like a second skin.
He looked as though he’d run half the countryside just to reach her.
A sound slipped from her—half a laugh, half disbelief.
He was impossible.
Utterly, infuriatingly impossible.
Another boom of thunder shook the building. She ignored the flinch that ran through her and kept her eyes on him.
And he—
He was looking at her with an expression she had not seen in five years.
Soft.
Warm.
Unguarded.
“You came back here,” she said quietly, “in this rain… to make sure I was safe.”
His breath hitched—barely, but enough.
“Of course I did.”
Something hot and frightening and familiar unfurled low in her stomach.
She swallowed.
“That was reckless.”
He stepped toward her.
