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“Cappuccino would be fantastic, if you don’t mind,” she finally says.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Leaving her to continue cleaning up, I set about grinding some beans.

Every minute or so, her attention on my back makes my skin tingle, but I don’t acknowledge her as we work almost side by side in my kitchen.

“I picked up a fresh loaf from down the street this morning, but going forward, I’ll make my own bread,” she tells me as the mug fills with coffee.

“I’m not going to argue, but not everything needs to be from scratch. I don’t mind if you take a few shortcuts.”

“You say that now. Wait until you taste my bread.” Her statement makes me pause for a beat. Confidence sounds good on her.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Switching the mugs, I set about steaming the milk for her cappuccino.

Happy with my creation, I walk over and place it beside where she’s mashing an avocado. Her sweet scent floods my nose as I step just a little too close, and I cringe. If I can smell her, she can no doubt smell me.

I move away quickly, grab my mug, and take a seat at the island like I did last night.

“Wh-what is this?” She asks, the fork in her hand clattering into the bowl.

“A cappuccino. Did you change your mind? I can make you another if?—”

“It has art on the top. A flower.”

I can’t help but laugh at the look of pure shock on her face.

“Technically, it’s a tulip, but I admit it’s not my best work.”

Her mouth opens and closes as she tries and fails to find words.

“But…you don’t know how to cook.”

“Making coffee is totally different to cooking.”

“But I can’t do that,” she mutters with a pout.

My smile grows. “I can teach you,” I offer.

“Can you do other designs?”

“Yeah.”

She bites down on her bottom lip and shakes her head.

“What?” I ask, desperate to know her thoughts.

“Nothing. I’m just surprised.”

“Had me pegged for totally useless, huh?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“It’s okay. I’ve met my fair share of people who think that just because I stop a puck for a living, I can’t possibly have any brain cells in my head.”

“I don’t think that,” she assures me quickly.