“Nothing’swrongwith it. I just think you sometimes say things you don’t necessarily intend to. Like calling me Mr. March out there in the parking lot earlier.”
Oh. So, hehadheard her say that. He’d been kind earlier by not acknowledging it. Not so kind now.
“You are a firefighter, Mitch. I think it’s fair to assume you’ve posed for a calendar or two.”
“That is a grossly inaccurate assumption. Firefighters aren’t just brainless beefcakes, you know.”
The towel was now a twisted, knotted mess. “I’m not saying they are. I have a great deal of respect for firefighters. I figured the weekly batches of cookies did a good job conveying that.”
Mitch’s features relaxed as he cut her some slack. “You’re right. They do. I’m sorry I implied otherwise.”
“And I’m sorry I objectified you.” Abandoning the tea towel to the counter, she thrust out a hand. “Truce?”
“I was unaware we were in the middle of a conflict.” Still, he took her hand into his own.
“I mean, I would definitely consider this conflict.”
“Really? Because you’ve not only rescued me from certain frostbite, but you’ve given me shelter, fed and clothed me. In some societies, we’d be considered married by now.”
Faith couldn’t feel her legs. They were unreliable pillars of mush, threatening to give out on her completely.
Why did Mitch’s words have the power to transport her to scenarios she’d never envisioned, not even in the decade she’d been in a relationship with Kevin?
But now she could see herself playing house with Mitch, sparring and making up with a sweet kiss and quick-witted banter. No.No, that was not the future she wanted. Not with this man. Right?
“I’m just being—” she started to say.
“Neighborly,” Mitch finished for her. Something diminished from his expectant eyes. He withdrew his big hand from hers and shoved it into his pocket. “Yeah, I know.”
Faith had screwed things up, once again. Because one moment they were getting along great. Flirting, even. And then the next it was as if she’d sucked all the air out of the room with a single comment.
She wasn’t just being neighborly. It was more than that. Yet, for some reason, admitting that was harder than she had expected. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to.
Her phone buzzed within her back pocket, sending a shockwave of relief through her.
It was Madeline.
“Looks like she’s running late.” Faith read the message. “It’ll be another hour until she can get here.”
“Go.” Mitch nudged his chin toward the door. “Go back to the bakery. I’m good here if you’re okay with me crashing until she arrives.”
She was fine with that. When it came down to it, she did trust Mitch. Some of that stemmed from his job. Firefighters and first responders were the safe ones, right? She’d learned that back when she was a little girl. Plus, she knew where he lived.
The part that struck her as odd was that she didn’twantto leave him. She’d have to, of course. The bakery couldn’t stay closed all day, and she had a customer coming by later to pick up a dozen cupcakes they’d ordered for a baby shower.
As she lifted her tote bag onto her arm, Faith listened while Mitch reiterated his gratefulness, and she wondered if the lingering connection between them was mutual.
And if Mitch was just as confused as she was.
CHAPTER 11
RJ ripped past, a massive fan of white spewing out in a slushy kickback that obscured Mitch’s vision. Mitch wiped his gloved hand across the visor, but water droplets remained, hindering his view. He’d have to decrease his speed. Traveling this fast without one-hundred-percent visibility was a recipe for disaster.
Something in his belly did a little flip. The word ‘recipe’ had never been an evocative one before, but since meeting Faith, anything relating to baking made not only his stomach hungry, but his nerves tingle.
He eased back on the throttle, letting RJ and Danny set off up the hill at full speed without him. Holden, their snowmobile expedition guide, was still higher up the summit, leading the way like a winter trailblazer. Mitch was fine with bringing up the rear. Sure, he liked to feel the hum of the mobile beneath him. Carving a new path across the fresh, white powder was exhilarating. But he’d be lying if he said his thoughts weren’t elsewhere.
