1
Marielle Moreau pushedher glasses up to the crown of her head and squinted at the scattered dots blinking on her computer monitor.It looked like nothing more than noise, but it hid the nugget of information she hunted.She stared harder, willing the chaos to dissolve, revealing the truth.
A waving hand passed between her eyes and her screen, and she jerked back.She blinked, and Omar Khan’s smiling face came into focus.She was so focused on his lopsided smile and his unfairly long, thick eyelashes that it took her a beat to notice he proffered a small white box in one hand.
She tilted her head and studied the pastry box.From the first time she’d mentioned she couldn’t find authentic French pastries locally, he’d taken it as a challenge.Over the course of their friendship, he’d taught himself how to bake treats that transported her back to summers at her grandmother’s vacation cottage in the southern French countryside.His baked goods delighted her tastebuds and filled her heart.
Even though she knew the answer, she asked the question she always asked.“Pour moi?”
“For you,” he confirmed as he placed it in front of her like an offering.
Then he perched on the corner of her desk and watched intently as she untied the twine and opened the lid.
“Oh,” she breathed at the sight of the perfectly laminated, puffed golden rectangle nestled in the box.The ends of two dark chocolate sticks peeked out from between the gorgeous flaky layers.She looked up at him.“You madepain au chocolate.It’s beautiful.”
His grin widened.“I found imported dry sheet butter.It made all the difference in the lamination.And wait until you taste it.”
She eyed the room-temperature coffee cooling on her desk.It seemed a pity to pair Omar’s confection with the lukewarm beverage.He seemed to know what she was thinking because he stood up to reveal a fresh cup ofcafé au laiton the edge of her desk.
“You think of everything.”He did.Attentive, considerate, and generous, Omar was going to make some woman very happy someday.And then, she suspected, his pal Elle would fall by the wayside.Forgotten and bereft of baked goods.
“Don’t get too excited.It’s only the break room’s finest.”
She laughed as she raised the still-warm pastry to her lips.Then she closed her eyes and savored her first bite of buttery dough and rich, melted chocolate.It was heavenly.As good as—no, better than—her belovedgrandmere’sversion.
“A triumph,” she announced.
He pumped his fist and pushed the coffee mug toward her.
Before drinking it, she took another nibble of thepain au chocolate.Unbidden, a high-pitched mewl of delight escaped from her throat.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple working.
She smiled and sipped her coffee.She flicked her tongue out to lick away a drip of steamed milk foam that tickled her upper lip.
Still watching her, he made a low, strangled noise.
What wasthatabout?
Before she could ask, Cal McCloud rolled up to her workstation.
“Jeez, Moreau.I could hear you from the hallway.I thought I was going to find you two going at it like a couple of horny teens.”
Her cheeks blazed.Omar dropped his gaze to the floor and coughed into his fist.
Then he eyed their coworker.“You need something, McCloud?Or are you just going floor to floor trying to piss people off?”
“I'm a natural.I don't even have to try, Khan.”
“Points for self-awareness,” Omar snarked.
McCloud smirked.“Boss wants to see you.”
Omar pushed off the desk and stood.
“Thank you for the treat,” Marielle said.
She was pulling her glasses down from the top of her head to return to her work when Cal shook his head.
