I blinked once. Then again. Then sighed like the world personally offended me. Grumbling, I grabbed the nearest cookie and bit into it.
Crisp edges, soft center, just the right amount of almond. Dang it. Of course it was delicious.
I ate two more before I realized I was still standing there like some moony idiot, staring at the spot James had just been. I scowled at the box like it was somehow to blame.
The stairs creaked.
Beau appeared from the hallway, holding a clipboard. “Hey, sorry I - ooh, are those from Wolf and Whisk?”
He reached over and snatched one before I could move the box. “Smells like almond.”
I slapped his hand lightly. “You’ve got your own stash, you know.”
“Not almond cookies,” he said, taking a huge bite and humming in appreciation. “James drop these off?”
I didn’t answer.
Beau raised an eyebrow. “He did. Okay. So what’s with the thundercloud expression? You do realize it’s fine to accept a nice gesture without looking like someone punched your favorite kneading dough.”
“He’s persistent,” I muttered, shoving the lid closed and crossing my arms.
“You say that like it’s a crime.” Beau leaned against the counter and gave me a knowing look. The kind only a best friend could get away with.
I hated that look.
“He’s not who you think he is,” I said, voice low.
Beau tilted his head. “You mean he’s not Kellen.”
That name hit harder than I expected. I flinched, jaw tightening. “Exactly.”
“You keep waiting for him to prove you right. But maybe he’s trying to prove you wrong.”
“He’s a flirt,” I snapped. “He’s always smiling, always saying something slick. It’s just... fake.”
“Maybe that’s just his armor,” Beau said. “Same way grump and growl is yours.”
I frowned. “He doesn’t know what I’ve been through.”
“No, but he’s trying to know you now.” Beau’s tone gentled. “And you can’t keep shutting out people who actually want to stick around. Not forever.”
I stared at the box. At the pun on the card. My chest squeezed tight, and not in a way I was ready to name.
“I didn’t ask him to stick around,” I muttered.
“Nope. But he’s showing up anyway. And you didn’t toss the cookies in the trash, so don’t act like you hate it,” Beau said.
I opened my mouth to deny it. It was instinct, mostly, but the words didn’t come. Because I didn’t hate it. Not even close.
I rolled my eyes, snatched the box off the counter, and stomped into the back kitchen like the whole thing didn’t matter.
Like I hadn’t memorized the way James’s eyes crinkled when he smiled or the exact pitch of his laugh when he was teasing me.
Beau’s chuckle followed me like a damn ghost. “Just admit he’s growing on you, grumpy bear.”
I flipped him off over my shoulder, but my heart wasn’t in it.
In the solitude of the kitchen, I set the box down again and leaned both hands on the edge of the counter, head bowed.
