I coated some dough with olive oil, spread the garlicy cream sauce on it, then sprinkled olives, sausage, and peppers. Satisfied with how it looked, I slid it carefully onto the hot pizza stone in the oven. Then I helped several of the kids make their dessert pizzas.
Henry, perched on a stool, took a big handful of chocolate chips and dumped them on his pizza.
"You need to put ninety percent of that back," I told him as I walked to the oven. Mace's pizza smelled done. I opened the oven, but before I could take out the pizza, Mace was there. He took the hot pad out of my hand, and using a spatula, scooped the pizza out onto a plate.
"I can't make you do all the work," he said with a small smile.
"It's hot," I warned him.
He blew on the pizza. "Just like something else in this kitchen."
* * *
Had Mace been flirtingwith me?
The thought rolled over and over in my head. We'd exchanged witty banter before, but in the kitchen last night, he'd said explicitly he thought I was hot. Well, not explicitly; he implied it. The thought nagged at me like the bent safety pin that jabbed my side whenever I turned in the driver's seat to check for traffic.
What kind of boyfriend would Mace be? But maybe he didn't actually want to be my boyfriend. Maybe it was simple lust. I had invited him to watch me take a shower for goodness' sake.
A scream from Henry jolted me out of my fantasy.
Mace did not want me to drive this morning, but he had to take a call. Before even leaving the property, I had dented the front bumper on the stone mailbox in front of the estate as I turned out of the gate. I also cracked the windshield on a tree branch, which was not my fault. The city really needed to keep the roads clear. Now Henry had taken to screaming whenever I made a turn in anticipation that I would hit something. The screaming of course would make me jerk the wheel.
"Henry, stop," Mace told his brother, not looking up from his phone. I made a mental note to take Henry out during the day so he wasn't cooped up inside.
There was a box of cookies on Mace's desk when we walked into the office.
"Jack must have had the leftovers from last night's meeting sent here," Mace explained as he situated Henry on the floor in my office with some coloring supplies.
I admired the elegant yet minimalist label of the Grey Dove Bistro as I opened the box. There were five exquisitely decorated cookies. They looked like little miniature versions of the Harrogate city hall building.
I took a bite of one. The sugar cookie was soft but still had some bite. There was a hint of almond, and the royal icing added a sweet note to contrast with the almost savory sugar cookie.
"This is the best cookie I've ever eaten," I said around the mouthful.
"It's almost eight in the morning," Mace said. "You're eating a cookie?"
"And water," I added, holding up my glass water bottle. "That basically cancels it out."
I held out the cookie to him. "Take a bite. It's a happy little treat to start your morning."
"You look like a treat in that blouse," he said to me.
Yep, he was definitely flirting.
"And you look like a snack in those pants," I told him, taking a seductive bite of the cookie, as much as one could.
"I look like a snack in my pants?" He seemed amused but confused.
"Are you kidding me? Expertly tailored dress pants do somethingelseto a man's behind," I said. "I don't know what it is, but wow."
Mace was grinning at me. His hair and his jaw were doing that thing that made me want to drag him off to my tiny house and have my way with him.
"So you're saying you notice me," he said, rubbing his jaw.
"Are you kidding me? I'm surprised Tara hasn't hauled me down to human resources for checking your butt out. I don't know how your tailor did it, but it's like you pants foldunder. Like the pants should fall, but they go around it."
"Huh. Almost like your tits in that shirt. Especially when you were wet. In the rain," he clarified.
