Crap.
This isn’t good.
“They smell delicious already!” Tansy calls from the front room of the bakery.
I barely get my face dried off before I check the timer. “Five more minutes. Just letting them cool before I drizzle the excess compote over them.”
I don’t like how my voice sounds thinner.
I make it to the mixer just before it beats the cream cheese icing into oblivion. I turn it off, checking the texture and making sure I didn’t overdo it. I grab a spoon and dip it in, allowing myself a taste. I roll it around on my tongue, but then my mouth swells with saliva.
Oh.
Oh, no.
The spoon drops. I rush to the sink, and my stomach heaves. Once. Twice. Three times, before the room sways on its own axis.
I clutch my thighs together as a pulse radiates outward, sizzling down through my legs. I want nothing more than to nuzzle down into my nest and jut my hips into the air. I feel so empty.
That’s not good.
“Something’s wrong,” I hear Knox say.
“She’s fine,” Tansy says. “You’re just?—”
I stumble against the sink before a pair of arms are around me.
“Knox. Get back here! Now!”
A hard thud rattles the floor I’m attempting to stand on before a familiar scent envelops me. Rain, and mocha, with a hint of sweat that makes something in my pelvis curl with delight.
“Knox,” I whisper.
“I gotcha,” he murmurs as I’m hoisted into the air. “You’re done for the day.”
I shake my head before it lands on his shoulder. “I gotta… the icing.”
“I’ve got it,” Tansy says. “You just get home and get to feeling better.”
“I’m fine,” I murmur, as if I’m trying to convince myself. “There’s two more… two… um…”
“Girl, I can ice some damn cinnamon rolls,” Tansy says as we start moving. “Knox?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Get her home safe.”
A timer goes off in the distance. “Compote. You… the compote goes?—”
Tansy wraps her hand around my pointing finger and looks me square in my eyes. “I’ll handle this. Go home.”
A tear—or maybe a bead of sweat, I don’t know—travels down my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Tansy shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. Let me know when you’re feeling better. I was going to talk with you today about brainstorming summer cinnamon roll flavors.”
I don’t hesitate. “I usually do lemon poppyseed.”
“Perfect. We’ll talk more when you’re feeling better.”
