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Jace’s voice was soft. “I don’t think you’re ridiculous.”

“That’s because you’re a nice guy.” Now they were complimenting each other. That also felt like old and new territory. “Thanks for coming to help me.” And even more importantly, “Thanks for knowing I needed help, even though I didn’t say so.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “You wouldn’t have been stuck baking pies if my mother hadn’t roped you into it. I figured I owed you.”

That was only partially true. Marlowe had gotten herself into this mess. Perhaps she was feeling overly emotional because of the late hour or because he had saved her from more baking failures, but she didn’t want to let him brush off her words. “You’ve always been thoughtful. Back in high school, you always noticed when someone needed something, and you were the first to help. Not Lucas. In fact, a lot of the time, Lucas was the one you were helping. How many times did you sit through detention for him because he had somewhere to go after school?”

Another shrug. “He helped me out too.”

Yes, he had. He’d taken the SAT for Jace.

“You’ve never lived in a shadow,” she said. “Not his. Not Carson’s. You’re amazing as you are.”

He held her gaze, his eyes steady. She waited to see what he would say next, what he would do. Would he realize what she was really saying—that she had feelings for him still … again. Could he tell by looking at her?

He nodded slightly, regarding her. “You changed your mind about the boots, didn’t you? You decided you wanted them after all.”

Apparently, he couldn’t tell she was in love with him. Maybe that was for the best. She smacked him playfully. “If I weren’t so tired and opposed to making a bigger mess in this kitchen, I would totally throw something at you right now and start a food fight.”

“I’ll help you clean the kitchen,” he said.

She let his words sink in. “Are you saying you want a food fight, or are you just being helpful and offering to clean a mess you didn’t make? Because that second one proves my point about your thoughtfulness.”

He chuckled. “I would hate to let you prove your point, so I guess we’d better have a food fight.”

But neither of them moved. Neither of them picked up any food. He was still looking at her, and those blue eyes were giving her ideas. Bad ideas. It’s late. I’ve got to leave ideas.

His voice was low and husky. “Maybe I’m not thoughtful after all. Maybe I just have ulterior motives for helping you. I feel like you should’ve considered that before categorizing me as helpful.”

“What sort of ulterior motives?” She kept her gaze on his, waiting for a shift in his position.

And it came. He turned toward her, leaned closer. His hands went to her waist and pulled her to him. “This,” he murmured and bent his head to kiss her.

She had kissed Jace Clark many times when she was a teenager. She had also kissed him a few times recently. But this felt like a first kiss—that explosion in her chest, happiness for being chosen, happiness for finally being able to kiss him back like she wanted to.

She wound her arms around his neck.

And then the buzzer rang.

She ignored the sound for a second but knew it wasn’t going to stop. She stepped away from him, finger raised. “Hold on. We need to finish discussing your ulterior motives.”

She was tingling. She was floating. She was not paying attention to the oven. She slipped the chocolate pies on the top rack, hit the button, and set the alarm for eight minutes.

All the while, she thought, Please don’t let him have come to his senses and changed his mind about kissing.

When she turned around, the look in his eyes told her that no, he had not changed his mind. Without a word, he pulled her back into his arms and his mouth found hers again. She melted into him. Her hands slid up his chest and circled his neck, feathering through the ends of his hair. His hands moved up and down her back. So did shivers of pleasure.

They really ought to discuss what all of this meant to their fake-relationship status, but that would have to be sometime later, because she couldn’t bring herself to stop kissing him. She only had eight minutes before the buzzer went off again and pie tasks awaited. Eight minutes wasn’t enough. She kissed him more intently, hungrily. Somehow, she found herself backed up into the counter. Jace’s mouth left her lips and made a trail across her cheek until it nuzzled under her ear.

She was breathing hard. “I like your ulterior motives. You can bake for me anytime.”

She felt the chuckle of his mouth against her skin. “I will take you up on that offer.”

“Never has apple pie been so sexy.”

He paused, lifted his head a little. “You probably shouldn’t say that sentence around my family.”

“Hadn’t planned to.”