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Me:

Just making sure everything is okay after

this morning.

I watch her as she unlocks her phone and reads the message, a small smile creeping across her face and when she meets my gaze again, she rolls her eyes.

But she doesn’t respond.

Instead, she just shakes her head, tucks her phone into her back pocket - the very same back pocket I had my hand in this morning - and turns away from the window.

That smile never leaves her face though.

And I’m taking the fucking win.

Chapter Twelve

Lennon

Dalton has been watching me.

For the last two days, I’ve noticed that beat up old truck he sits in parked across the street from the bakery. And he just sits there, never coming inside and never pushing for more. There is a part of me that wonders if I should feel concerned that this man I just met seems to be following me and watching me but I didn’t get that vibe from Dalton. Plus, I asked Mila about the Bayou Devils MC and got a whole report on who they are and the work they do. I feel like she gave me enough information for me to confidently say that Dalton is a good man.

Not that I had any doubt.

When he stepped in front of me that day Owen showed up, I immediately felt safe.

Among other things.

Shaking my head, I grab the rag from the bucket behind the counter and head into the dining room, trying my best not to think about our almost kiss a couple of days ago.

But fail, epically.

That damn moment has been playing in my head on a loop ever since it happened and I can’t make it stop no matter what I try.

Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

Maybe he really was just reaching for my phone and my poor affection deprived brain latched onto that moment because it’s the closest I’ve felt to being wanted and chosen in months.

But, God… the way he looked at me.

I was so sure he wanted the exact same thing I did.

I’m not so sure now.

The bell above the door rings and I glance up, my breath catching. Speak of the devil…

Dalton walks into the bakery with all the swagger of a man that knows his place in the world and his eyes find me immediately.

“Lennon,” he says, closing the distance between us. I flash him a smile.

“Dalton. You made it out of the truck today.”

His smirk is addicting. “I did. Been craving one of those cinnamon rolls again.”

“Oh?” I ask, trying to keep the smile on my face despite the doubts echoing through my head. “You like my cinnamon rolls?”

His brow quirks up. “You made those?”