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He nodded and grabbed one before stabbing the center of the cake with it. When he pulled it out, there were a couple of crumbs clinging to the wood, but that was it. He held the toothpick out to me. “Is that good?”

“I think so.”

A bright smile formed on his face. “Success.” He laughed.

“Hey now. I’m the one who made the cake. That’s my success you’re talking about.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I just hope it tastes good.”

“I followed the recipe.” I shrugged. “It should taste fine.”

“Speaking of recipes,” he said. “I think we’re out of eggs. Unless they’re hiding somewhere. And butter, thanks to my disastrous attempt at creaming.”

I grimaced. “First of all, stop saying creaming. It’s gross.” A laugh burst out of him, but I kept going. “Second, we can run to the grocery store. I was thinking of making burritos for dinner anyway, and we’ll need ingredients.”

“Deal.”

We? I could have easily suggested that I go to the store by myself. What had gotten into me? I swallowed and nodded. “Great,” I said, my voice tight. “Let’s get going.”

Twenty minutes later, we were in my beat-up old car and pulling into the grocery store parking lot, a shopping list saved on my phone.

“Ready?” Kieran asked cheerfully as he climbed out of the car.

“Let’s get it over with.” I hated grocery shopping. There were too many people and the cashiers were always busy and the lines took forever. I wasn’t people-y enough for all that.

“What’s first on the list?”

I pulled out my phone, still ignoring the text from Eva. I swiped away the notification and pulled up the shopping list, rattling off ingredients. “Onions, avocado, cilantro, tomatoes, scallions, jalapeño. For the guacamole,” I explained.

“You’re going to make guacamole?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Sure, why not?” I shrugged. “It’s not too complicated and it’s way better homemade fresh than the prepackaged stuff.”

Kieran chuckled softly. “You’re a man of many talents.”

My chest tightened at his quiet compliment. Instead of responding, I cleared my throat. “Avocados. Here.” We both reached for a large, plump avocado at the same time, our fingers brushing as we did. My breath hitched and I pulled my hand back quickly. “Sorry. You go ahead.”

Kieran shook his head, retreating a little. “You’re the one making the guacamole. You pick.”

Silently, he watched as I picked out four avocados and then we moved on to the rest of the produce. Once we’d left that section and grabbed the ground beef, we moved on to tortillas.

“Can you pass me that package of big tortillas?” I asked Kieran, pointing and trying desperately to get things back to normal between us—if not friendly, at least cordial.

He nodded and grabbed the package I meant, handing it over. As he did, our fingers touched once again. I swallowed back the wave of… was that panic that rose in me? “Thanks,” I murmured instead, tossing the tortillas into the shopping cart.

We continued shopping, grabbing staples—including the butter and eggs that we so desperately needed to keep baking. I stopped in the alcohol section and grabbed a six-pack of my favorite local beer, and soon we were lining up at the register. I stood in front of the cart as we waited for our turn. Kieran fidgeted, looking through the candy bar selection for several seconds, and when we were next, I stepped forward. At that same moment, he grabbed a candy bar and stepped toward me, colliding with me.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“My fault.” He maneuvered around behind me, putting a hand on the middle of my back gently as he moved, probably to be sure I didn’t back into him or something.

My breath caught in my throat, my back warming from his brief touch and my face blazing with heat. When I reached the cashier, a sweet older lady with a head of gray curls, she gave me a friendly smile.

“Find everything you need?”

I nodded and began to unload the cart onto her conveyor belt. “Yep, all good.”

“Glad to hear it. Can I get an ID for the beer?”