“You improve things into chaos.”
I grin. “Sexy chaos.”
He freezes for half a second.
He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t breathe. He just… stops.
Then he inhales, slow and controlled, and says, “Please don’t say things like that in my bakery.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m trying to work.”
“And?”
“And you’re not helping.”
The way he says it sends heat straight through me.
“Oh,” I say softly. “I can be helpful.”
He finally turns around and looks at me directly. The pull between us snaps right back into place, strong enough to make my breath catch.
He opens his mouth to say something, but Maisie hops onto a stool and announces, “I need a cookie.”
Liam closes his eyes. “It’s eight in the morning.”
“It’s almost eight-thirty,” she counters.
“That’s not a difference.”
Charlotte-to-the-rescue mode activates. I grab a cookie from the cooling rack and hand it to her. “For morale,” I say.
Liam gives me a look. “Don’t encourage her.”
But he’s smiling, and good Lord, that smile does something to me.
Maisie takes her cookie and wanders to her coloring station.
And suddenly it’s just him and me again.
He steps closer. “So. What did you actually come here for?”
I lift my clipboard. “I need your help finalizing the tasting board styling.”
“You don’t need my help for that.”
“Maybe I just want your opinion.”
“You definitely don’t need that.”
I step closer too. The air between us changes in that quiet, tightening way it does every time we stand like this.
He swallows. “Charlotte.”
“I need you to taste something.”
His eyes flare, and oh, he’s thinking it too.
