Page 112 of Sweet Surrender

But I listen for her footsteps when she comes in late.

But she fits next to me, in ways I never thought someone could.

Fuck.

“There’s no but,” I say, a little too quickly.

Vince and Rocket exchange a look before Hawkin leans in, smirking. “Uh-huh. Sure, man. Keep telling yourself that.”

I scowl. “Can we get back to the song now? This new material isn’t going to write itself.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vince stretches. “But just for the record? There’s no shame in wanting more.”

I ignore the comment and start the beat again, letting the music drown out the truth I don’t want to admit yet.

Because they’re right.

I think I do want more and that scares the shit out of me.

Everyone I’ve ever loved has left me. Scarred me. Hurt me.

I refuse to open myself back up to that, regardless of how good it feels now.

It never lasts.

Ever.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Gizmo

I push open the back door of the bakery and lean against the frame, watching Hendrix work. Flour dusts her apron, and she’s focused, piping delicate designs onto cookies. It’s late—too late for her to still be here.

Guess I screwed her—and myself—with this whole contest thing. That’s why when my surprises show up at any minute, she’ll be happy.

“Can I help?”

She startles, nearly smearing the icing, but corrects herself. “You scared me.”

“You’re busy.”

“Somebody created a contest that has made things a tad hectic. I wonder why?” she asks. I’m relieved to hear the amusement in her voice.

I move toward the cookie rack, snatch day-old ones off the rack, and take a bite. So damn good. I groan dramatically. “You’re going to make me fat.”

“Stop eating my cookies.” She slaps at my hand but her smile says she’s happy to see me. That makes two of us.

“Hello to you too.” I grin as I stop beside her and without thinking, wipe off a smudge of icing on her cheek. She stills, her breath catching slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. I take the opportunity to brush my lips against hers.

I mean, if she’s going to give it, I’m going to take it.

Sighs come from the other side of the counter. Hendrix jumps back and looks past me. “Hi. I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”

“They know,” I say. “I had Sammy let them in.”

She looks at me confused. “What do you mean, they know?”

I grin. “They’re reinforcements.”