That was met with a snort from Cass and another round of teasing from Leo and Dorian.
Sean clapped his hands. “Okay, enough matchmaking. Some of us are trying to work.”
Rafael muttered something under his breath and shot me a look I couldn’t quite place. Embarrassment? Irritation? Hope?
I wasn’t sure.
But then he said, just loud enough for me to hear, “You can come over whenever. If you need stuff. We’ve helped Wolf and Whisk before.”
It was a gruff olive branch, but it still felt like progress. My heart gave a hopeful thump.
Cass, of course, grinned like a jackal. “Aw, that’s sweet. Rafael doesn’t share with anyone.”
“Shut it,” Rafael growled.
I bit my lip to stop from laughing, clutching the bag of flour tighter to my chest.
“Thanks again,” I said, stepping back.
Rafael gave a jerky nod, then disappeared behind the counter again. His ears were pink. As I headed toward the door, I couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across my face.
Was it foolish to get my hopes up? Maybe.
Okay, probably.
But I’d seen something different in Rafael lately. Ever since our awkward, tense almost-fight outside the bakery last week, something had shifted.
He wasn’t quite as guarded. Still grumpy, still ready with a scowl that could curdle milk. But there were cracks in that armor now.
Tiny, hesitant cracks where the warmth slipped through. Little moments where he softened, where he lingered just a second too long, where his eyes didn’t look right through me.
They looked at me. He didn’t hate me. He was just scared to like me. And honestly? I got it.
I wasn’t stupid. I saw the way he froze when my name flashed on his phone the other day, how he shut down like a steel door slamming shut.
Whoever “Kellen” was, and yeah, I saw that name too, had clearly done a number on him. There was pain behind Rafael’s sarcasm.
There was fear under his silence. And I didn’t want to bulldoze over that. I just wanted to be let in, even if it was one cautious step at a time.
I didn’t want to be just another guy with a flirty smile and a good line. I didn’t want to be someone he regretted. I wanted to be someone he trusted.
The funny thing was, everyone assumed flirting came easy to me. That I was always chasing the next guy, batting my lashes, making innuendos for fun.
And yeah, I played into that. It was easier to be the carefree guy who didn’t get serious, who didn’t get hurt.
But the truth? I hadn’t been in many relationships. Not real ones. Not when I spent most of my adult life cleaning up after a brother who liked to gamble more than he liked breathing.
When you’re sending every spare dollar to a debt collector to keep your brother out of a shallow grave, romance tends to take a back seat.
So yeah, I flirted. I teased. I pretended. But Rafael… he made me feel things I didn’t know I still had the capacity for.
I wanted to be close to him. Not just under him - though damn, the idea of that did make my brain short-circuit - but with him. In the quiet ways. In the hard ways. In the everyday.
I wanted him to know me. All of me. The good, the stubborn, the still-struggling parts. And maybe… maybe the almond flour was a good place to start.
It was a small thing, sure. A bag of finely milled nuts. But it gave me a reason to walk into his space, to bridge that little bit of distance without making it a big thing.
And more than that, it gave me purpose. Because tonight? I was going to bake something for him. Not to show off. To give.
