Irretrievably.
They’d spent the weekend either texting or calling each other about food options while they created their own “assigned” items separately in order to bring them together on Monday afternoon for a taste testing and pairing.
And in between batter discussions and spice pairings, they’d somehow become... more.
He missed her. Actuallymissedher. And how had she worked her way into his expectations so quickly? He couldn’t wait for the next conversation, the next shared look, the next time he pulled that glowing smile from her.
He was completely barmy—and it was the best he’d felt in years.
Another knock—this one louder—jolted him from his thoughts.
Rain lashed the window in steady waves, increasing with each passing hour since early evening. So whoever was out there at midnight in a thunder-soaked storm either really needed him... or had terrible timing.
He moved to the door, peered through the peephole—and blinked.
Plaits? Golden ones?
He unbolted the lock and pulled open the door to find Daphne standing on his porch, hair in two braids, holding a covered dish and wearing pajamas dotted with... Were those Highland cows?
The woman looked decidedly huggable.
Perhaps he was living a fever dream from some soft-focus rom-com—and he didn’t know whether to laugh, kiss her, or drag her inside. Perhaps all three?
She smiled so brightly, his grin answered on instinct.
“I saw your light through the window and figured you were still up.” She winced. “I mean, I wasn’twatchingyou through the window like a weirdo. I just... noticed.”
His laugh burst free. Healmosttugged her into his arms on the spot. She could do with a good kiss. From him. For a very long time.
“I was going to say I hoped you liked what you saw.” He tsked. “But then you went and ruined the moment.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re wasting perfectly good flirtation standing in the rain.” He stepped back and glanced toward the downpour. “Come in.”
She shook her head, pushing the dish into his hands. “I don’t want to wake Lucy. I’m dry under the porch, and I just finished making these. I couldn’t wait for you to try one.”
Warmth unfurled through his chest. She’d made something and brought ithere—tohim. At midnight. In cow pajamas.
The kiss-her-senseless fantasy returned with even more clarity.
After the car ride and the hug, their relationship had shifted into more intimate territory, but this? This was a special kind of trust. She wanted his opinion. Trusted her idea with his care.
He took the dish and lifted the lid.
Mini cheesecakes.
“If you don’t mind?” She whipped out a fork like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. “I want to get your reaction.”
“No pressure.” He raised a brow. “And these look like finger foods, right?”
She lowered the fork, nodded—eyes still locked on his.
“You’re not going to tell me what’s in them?”
“That would ruin the surprise.” She shrugged innocently, like she wasn’t trying to inadvertently seduce him with dessert at midnight in the rain wearing hairy-cow pajamas.
Certainly not a combination he’d considered sexy before tonight. But here she was.
