Hazel’s strong. She has her walls bonded together with mortar. She’s also soft. She’s given me glimpses of her pieces, which show me that her walls may be strong, but they’re not very high.
And if I need to be a chisel to break those walls down, or if I need to climb over them to meet her on the other side, I will.
“I do think so,” I say, dipping my head. “Or maybe I just hope so. I found a new recipe for a dessert I think you’ll like.”
“Unlucky, but still pressing your luck,” she says, a smile playing on her lips. She takes a long breath in. “Just because I’m not picky with candy doesn’t mean I’m not picky with desserts.”
I take a step.Thestep. The one that closes the distance between our bodies. The one that leaves no question what I want.
“I won’t let you down,” I say, looking directly into her eyes. The tips of her fingers graze my uncasted forearm as she leans slightly into me.
I miscalculate how far I need to bend to reach Hazel. Our mouths miss each other entirely, my lips landing on the tip of her nose instead.
A surprised laugh spills out of her. “That was… really special.”
“Promise I’m not normally that clumsy of a kisser,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush.
Hazel angles her chin up, giving me an easy target. “Prove it.”
So I do. And this time, it’s a bullseye.
She wraps her hands around my waist right as the sound of something hitting the floor startles us.
Toffee’s sitting on the edge of the counter with his paw midair, looking down at the pumpkin seeds he’s just successfully bopped tothe ground. We freeze for a second, regarding each other. Waiting for the other to make a move.
There’s a fifty-fifty chance Toffee will have ruined yet another moment.
Hazel still has her arms around me, though, so I like my chances. Her eyes sweep from Toffee over to me. She takes one hand off me, and now I’m sure this is the end of whatever it was we just started.
But then she swipes the box of Lucky Charms cereal straight off the counter. It lands on the floor with a softthud.
Without breaking eye contact, I mimic her movements, toppling the bottle of peanuts sideways.
Hazel taps a bag of jujubes that flips midair to the floor.
I knock the walnuts on top of those.
Toffee gives us an annoyed meow before jumping down.
“Who knew Toffee was such a sore loser,” I say.
“We just defeated a cat at his own game.” Then, without another word, Hazel sweeps the other ingredients to the side, clearing the counter next to us. I lift her up onto it with one arm.
I position myself between her thighs as she slides her hands over my triceps, resting them on my shoulders. I inch forward slowly, and this time, she drops a quick, soft kiss on the tip ofmynose. She bites her lip as she smiles, bending forward the rest of the way to catch my bottom lip between hers. Gone are the clumsy near-misses. Unlike our first rushed, spur-of-the-moment kiss, this one is slow and purposeful.
I keep my hands steady on Hazel’s waist as she hooks her calves behind my thighs and pulls me closer, wrapping her arms more tightly around me. We release twin sighs—hers breathier while mine’s released from somewhere deep. Somewhere needy.
“Didn’t even have to make the food,” I whisper against her lips, “and the ingredients are already doing their job.”
Hazel searches my face as she traces her thumb across my cheek. She pulls her hand back and drops a whisper-soft kiss in its place. “They’re useless on the floor,” she finally says. Then she pats my chest and hops down. “We should start cooking.”
A low grunt escapes my throat. I don’t want to stop kissing her. Then I recall what she said at the firehouse about wanting to go slow. “I’ll get the oven going.”
“I meant it when I said I was going to help you get lu—” She clamps her mouth shut before finishing her sentence. “Get some luck.”
My eyes don’t leave hers as the air crackles around us, just like it did that first day. Like there’s a static fuzz that makes time stand still when we’re around each other. That’s what spending time with her feels like: moments frozen in time. Like nothing bad can touch them. Like nothing bad can touch us.
We spend the next few hours cooking side by side, me only getting in Hazel’s way twice on accident and once on purpose.
