Page 42 of More than Words Can Say

Abigail grinned as she flipped the round baking pan over and coaxed the sticky buns onto the worktable. The sweet concoction of maple syrup, brown sugar, and nuts she’d lined the pan with glistened atop the buns in sheer perfection. Judging the dozen buns with an expert eye, she picked out the two best from the batch and set them on a plate for Zach. She’d carry them upstairs as soon as she finished organizing her bakery trays for the morning. Perhaps instead of simply leaving his breakfast for him, she could seek him out and share a pleasantry or two before they went their separate ways.

As if her thoughts had conjured the man she sought, a stair creaked and a pair of large feet worked their way down. Unable to look away, she watched as long legs appeared, gradually stretching up into a solid, well-muscled chest. When his face finally cleared the stairwell wall, her breath caught. His midnight-blue eyes locked directly onto hers as if he’d known precisely where she stood.

“Mornin’.” His low voice rumbled, and her skin registered the vibrations with delightful tingles of awareness.

Her lips curved upward. “Morning.”

He didn’t say more, just took a seat on the third stair and reached for his boots. He winced slightly as he shoved his right foot in, and Abigail immediately recalled the abuse she’d dished out with her bedroom door last night.

“Sorry about your foot.” She took a hesitant step toward him, her gaze climbing upward as he stood.

His intense regard didn’t flicker one iota at the reminder of her less-than-commendable behavior. It just kept radiating heat in her direction. “It’ll heal.”

Goodness. She wouldn’t need her oven the rest of the morning if this heat between them kept up.

Clearing her throat, she ventured a step closer. “You’re down early today. I just pulled the sticky buns out of the oven.”

“Thought I’d start breaking my fast here in the kitchen.” With you. His mouth didn’t say the words, but his eyes did.

Abigail wasn’t accustomed to such overt masculine attention. It made her jittery and altogether uncomfortable. Yet she refused to duck her head as instinct demanded. Zach had emboldened her last night, made her believe she might actually be worthy of a man’s regard despite her unconventionally round shape. Perhaps even because of it. And wasn’t that a mind-altering thought? Zach might actually prefer abundant curves to wispy waists and delicate features. As much as that contradicted her previous experience with men, she could no longer deny the possibility. After all, there had been nothing polite about Zach’s most recent kisses. They had been passionate. Barely contained. Not the kisses of a man simply doing his duty.

“I’d like that,” she said, finally turning away from his sizzling gaze to collect the sticky buns she’d set aside for him. She carried the plate to the small table she kept in the kitchen, then fetched a mug from the cupboard and filled it to the brim with coffee from the freshest pot on the stove.

The bakery would open for business in about thirty minutes, and Rosalind would soon bustle between the kitchen and the shop as she tended to customers. But for now, Abigail and Zach had a few private moments.

“Sit with me?” Zach held out the second chair.

She nodded. All of her breakfast items were done and cooling. She’d need to arrange them on the trays and move them to the display case in the shop, but that could wait a few minutes.

Abigail seated herself across from him, her gaze raking his features while he turned his attention to his breakfast. Broad shoulders encased in blue cotton, nearly black hair in need of a trim curling slightly behind his ears, tanned swarthy skin, dark whiskers shadowing his square jaw. He hadn’t shaved. He must have changed his morning routine to accommodate having breakfast with her. Her heart warmed at the thought.

She watched as he sipped his coffee, deciding that she liked his dark scruff. It enhanced his rugged appeal. Made him look just the tiniest bit dangerous. Though not to her. Never to her. He was her protector, only dangerous to those who threatened what belonged to him. And she belonged to him. While some independent women who ran their own businesses and made their own decisions might balk at that rather primitive idea, the concept secretly thrilled Abigail, because she knew that he belonged to her as well. Equal partners. Mutual respect. Belonging wasn’t ownership, it was relationship. A relationship she very much wanted to build with Zacharias Hamilton.

He’d finished his first bun while she wool-gathered. Embarrassed to have made no effort to converse, Abigail frantically dug around for something to say, latching on to the item most on the town’s mind of late.

“Will Mr. Sinclair be closing the lumberyard early this Saturday for the Fourth of July celebration?”

“Yep.” Zach wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then reached for his coffee. “If we can get the order for the James Gilmer house filled by Friday, we’ll take the entire day off.”

She smiled. “That’s wonderful! I’m glad you’ll have time to relax and enjoy the festivities.”

The coffee halted halfway to his mouth. “I thought we’d be enjoying the festivities together.”

“I’ll be there,” Abigail hedged. “Eventually.”

Zach set the coffee cup down with a thunk and shot her a frown.

“Holidays and special events bring so many people to town that the businesses on the square remain open late into the afternoon.” She shrugged in apology. “I make some of my best profits in the hours before and after the Fourth of July parade.”

“Then I guess you better give me some pointers on how to help in the shop.”

Help in the . . . ? Abigail blinked. Surely she’d misunderstood. Zach didn’t know the first thing about baking, and he certainly wasn’t the sociable type to chat up customers while they stood in line. And picturing him in an apron was ludicrous in the extreme. Her father might have worn one, but Zach? Abigail bit back a giggle.

“You can tutor me tonight and tomorrow,” Zach said, “but not on Thursday.”

She tilted her head. “Why not Thursday?”

Heat flared in his eyes again as his gaze caressed her face. “I’m abducting you.”