Cara had made them for Marlowe on more than one occasion, and they were favorites of hers.
“I’m working on a strawberry roll recipe,” she said. “Something with nice pink frosting. I think the bakery case would look so lovely this spring with some naturally beautiful pastels in it.”
“Well, I know I would drive to get one of those,” Cody said. “So hopefully everybody in town feels the same way.”
“Hopefully.”
Cara scampered out of the kitchen and left Cody and Marlowe standing there by themselves.
The ache that she had felt since she woke up was now twice as fierce, and impossible to ignore. He looked at her, those eyes assessing as they swept over her body. It was brisk, and he didn’t linger, but still, it was like a touch.
She cleared her throat and turned away, desperate to get some space between them, but he followed closely.
“Do you want brochures in here?” Cara was standing in the main room looking expectantly at both of them, and for a moment, Marlowe couldn’t figure out which one of them she was talking to. Possibly because her head was still messed up from that moment of tension with Cody.
“Why?”
“So that all the different features of the resort can be advertised to anyone who stops here. I know this isn’t a totally main highway, but people can take it to get to Bend, to go to Crater Lake, so it seems like maybe we might get a little bit of random traffic. And maybe we can advertise the resort through the bakery. I mean, you’re already advertising the bakery through the resort.”
“Yeah,” Cody said. He nodded, as if to emphasize the point. “Good thinking.”
He sounded as disconnected from things as she felt.
“Okay, now, do you want the shelves to be lined up evenly with each other, or do you want them staggered?”
It took a moment to realize that Zane was speaking again, too.
“Oh,” Cara said, frowning. “Staggered how?”
“I mean, we could have them in a line,” Zane said, gesturing from top to bottom, stepping over a foot and gesturing from top to bottom, “or arranged randomly.”
“What do you guys think?”
“Oh, I…” Personally, Marlowe would probably put the shelves in a line, because that was her aesthetic. But Cara was whimsical, and she could see a cluster of shelves with flowers and potted plants, small statues of mice, and other things that were very Cara, being cute in this instance. Cody took a step back, like he was also assessing the space, and she got a strong hit of his aftershave.
Spicy and rich, enticing.
She looked up at him, just as he looked down at her, and itwas like the rubber band that had been stretching between them snapped. Except neither of them moved. Cara was standing right there, and so was Zane.
But she felt like they were the only two people in the room. Hell, in the entire world.
And she didn’t try to hide it.
She had a feeling that her hunger for him was bleeding through on her face. That it was clear and obvious to anyone who wanted to have a look.
Clear and obvious to him, and she wasn’t trying to disguise it.
But neither was he. He wanted her. She could see that. She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen that look on a man’s face. She supposed it was Aiden. She supposed it was a long time ago. But had it ever been this?
This felt so dangerous. So wrong. It felt like a runaway freight train that she couldn’t get a handle on, and that was what was exhilarating about it.
She was wounded, cut loose and abandoned, and free.
Free on top of everything else.
Yes, there was propriety.
Yes, there were best practices when it came to working for somebody, working with somebody, yes, she knew that it could put this new life, this job, in danger, but it made her feel more excited, which was messed up. Absolutely, completely messed up, but so was everything else.
