Page 84 of Serving Bunt

“You heard me,” I told him. “I want to bake with you.”

Matty blinked slowly, like he was waiting for the punchline. “We just spent five days baking together.”

“And yet, in those five days, I never had the opportunity to show off my top-tier zesting skills.” I reached into the tote bag full of groceries I had picked up on the way over to his house and retrieved a lemon. “No if’s, and’s, or Bundts about it.”

It only took one small curve of his lips for my heart to decide that I had made the right decision tonight. Matty wanted me here with him, and I wanted dessert, so we were going to bake a goddamn lemon Bundt cake.

“No camera, no judges.” I started unpacking the bag, setting out the ingredients one by one—flour, sugar, cornstarch, sour cream. That last one had sent me for a loop. “This time, it’s just you, me, and the little demon.”

Matty gasped.

Actually gasped.

“Excuse you.” He scooped Mo higher against his chest and took a dramatic step backward. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart.”

Mo’s tail thumped happily against his arm. Shaking my head, I reached back into the tote bag and dug around beneath the rest of the lemons.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, fishing out a small, plush donut with floppy rope legs attached to it. “Don’t worry, I brought something for your precious, little psycho, too.”

Matty’s eyes flickered down to the toy and then back up to me.

“You bought my dog a present?”

“Don’t make it weird.” I huffed, shrugging like it was nothing. “I was at the store anyway and it was just sitting there.”

“You bought my dog a present,” he repeated, his voice full of quiet reverence. I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly feeling a little exposed under the way he was looking at me.

“It’s not a big deal,” I said quickly. “I figured she deserved something after putting up with us the last few days.”

Something soft flickered across his face. Mo, completely oblivious to the moment, was already wiggling in his arms, trying to get closer to her new toy.

I cleared my throat and held the plush donut out toward her. “Here, you little terror. Don’t say I never got you anything.”

She launched herself forward with surprising force for a twelve-pound dog, snatching the toy out of my hand—and nearly taking off a few fingers in the process. She was an adorable, little demon, but a demon, nonetheless. Matty let her down, and she trotted off to the corner of the kitchen to destroy her new prize with glee.

I turned back to Matty, who was still watching me with that same curious look.

“What?” I asked him.

“Nothing,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re really good with her.”

I shrugged again, trying to play it cool even as warmth spread through my chest. “She’s important to you. That makes her important to me.”

Matty’s expression softened even further. He closed the last bit of distance between us, snaked a hand around my neck, and kissed me. Not the desperate, messy kind we’d shared in the cabin when neither of us could keep our hands to ourselves.

This was something else.

His lips lingered against mine for a few seconds before he pulled back and lightly brushed his thumb along the side of my neck, skimming over my pulse point.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The simple sincerity of it hit me harder than any filthy thing he’d ever whispered in my ear.

“For buying your dog a toy?”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “For showing up.”

“Damn, Alabama.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’ll buy your dog a whole fucking pet store so long as you keep kissing me like that.”