He hoped she remodeled and left her mark the way she wanted. If anybody deserved success, Taryn did with her hard work, loyalty, and love of this bakery, its customers, and baking.
Back in the kitchen, she focused on the cakes and nothing else.
She stretched her arms overhead. “I need a break.”
He would give her one. “Dance with me.”
Her eyes widened. “Dance?”
“I don’t understand your question.”
“Do you want to dance with me?”
“Yes.” Garrett knew what might sway her. “It’s a way to warm up for the wedding. There’s a dance floor, so we can safely assume there will be dancing.”
“Does this line of reasoning sway juries?”
“Come on. What’s stopping you?”
“I’ve never danced in a bakery. This would be a first for me.”
“It’s like dancing anywhere else.” He held out his hand. “Take it.”
As a popular John Legend song came on the radio, Garrett assumed the proper position and held her.
She touched his shoulder, but hesitation gleamed in her eyes.
“And we’re off,” he whispered.
They danced around the kitchen, careful not to bump into anything.
Holding her close felt so natural. Garrett never wanted to stop. His heart pounded. He tried to memorize everything about the moment—about her.
Taryn stared up at him. “What are you thinking?”
Dare he tell her the truth? “How much I’m enjoying this dance.”
“Me, too. A good thing there will be more tomorrow.”
Anticipation swelled. “I’m counting on it.”
“I want to keep dancing, but I need to work on the cakes, or I’ll be up all night.”
“Can’t have that.”
Her face was so close to his. She moved forward, and he met her halfway. Garrett wasn’t in any rush, even though he was leaving soon. He pulled her closer until she was up against him.
Right where she belonged.
Hands in her hair, his lips moved over hers.
His.
Not really, but he enjoyed pretending. And he would keep doing so as long as he could.
Sunday, a voice whispered.
The song ended, but Garrett didn’t want to stop dancing.
