Finn glanced back at Daphne. “But I assume my competition isn’t worried?”
A very unladylike snort emerged from Daphne’s nose as she folded her arms. “Not in the slightest.”
“Good.” His grin widened. “I’d hate to think I was intimidating.”
She arched a brow. “If that’s your goal, you might want to reconsider leading with oat milk slander and boy band playlists.”
Finn leaned his elbow on the counter, gaze flicking lazily over her like he had all the time in the world. “You say that like you didn’t grow up imagining a duet with Mr. Darcy, or are you more of a Rochester fellow? He broods enough for a classical composer.”
Daphne’s mouth opened. Closed. “I’ll have you know, I was partial to Captain Wentworth.”
“Ah.” He nodded solemnly. “The emotionally repressed sailor. Should’ve guessed.”
Rosemary barked out an unhelpful laugh and immediately tried to disguise it as a cough.
Daphne narrowed her eyes. “You’re deflecting.”
He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. “Am I?”
Too close. Too casual. Too charming.
“Yes.” She jabbed a finger toward him. “Because deep down, you’re worried your gastropub can’t out-charm a proper tearoom.”
Finn’s grin was maddening. “Tell you what, Miss Austen—I’ll save you a front row seat at the opening. That way, when I win, you can say you witnessed history.”
“Oh, I’ll be there.” Her smile turned as sweet as lemon curd over arsenic. “I like comedy.”
“And I like confidence,” he murmured, eyes dancing. “Even when it’s misplaced. But because I’m such a nice chap, I’d be happy to show you some expert baking skills if you want to get inventive with your little... pastries.” He waved toward her kitchen as if his magnanimous gesture would change her world. “Spice up the place a bit, luv?”
The way he said “luv”—low, warm, like a secret just for her—sent tingles up her arms to land on the back of her neck. Not to mention the nuanced mention of spice, but from the look in his eyes, he had it clearly defined.
She stiffened against the renewed heat shimmying all the way up her body. He was attempting to weaken her defenses. But she refused to break eye contact. “I’m too cautious to misplace confidence, Dashwood.” Good, using his last name felt less... personal. “And the last thing I need in my kitchen is your coffee and Led Zeppelin.”
His expression twisted in mock sadness. “Tragic, really.” Repeating her from earlier.
“I’ll take baking tips,” Rosemary offered, her dazed expression very un-Rosemary-like.
What sort of spell did this guy cast on people?
Finn kept his attention on Daphne for a beat longer, brow raised, before he made a deliberate turn in Rosemary’s direction. “It would be a shame if I stole Daphne’s favorite employee to work for the dark side.”
Dark side was accurate. Daphne rolled her eyes so hard she straineda muscle. Then she leaned in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me, Dashwood. The only thing you’re stealing is my patience.”
“Ah,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Patience is overrated.”
“Not in a shared-wall situation, and certainly not where your music is concerned,” she shot back, quickly biting into her muffin to suppress her laughter. Why, oh why, did he draw out the desire to fight! It was like she couldn’t help herself. “Last night, I even dreamed about you at a Queen concert listening to ‘Under Pressure.’” She grimaced for effect. “I think the song choice was no accident in my psyche.”
“I’m flattered.” His palm covered his heart. “Usually it takes a few dates to get inside a woman’s dreams.”
Ugh. Seriously? His tea-colored eyes lost their appeal. Mostly. “Did I say ‘dreams’? I meant nightmares of you and your music ruining the peace and quiet of my kitchen.”
“Well, with that sweet thought in mind...” Finn pushed his sunglasses back into place. “I should get back to the pub. My contractors will be here soon.”
“If you need a taste tester, let me know,” Rosemary offered, sounding much too energetic. What was she doing? It was almost like... Daphne’s attention zipped back to Rosemary. Was Rosemary attempting to bait her? No.
But her friend continued without a look in Daphne’s direction. “After working here the past few years, I’ve developed excellent taste discernment.”
Daphne blinked a few times. “Taste discernment?”
