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“Sounds like somebody needs to expand his horizons.”

“My horizons are fine.”

“Your horizons are black coffee and emotional repression.”

I glance over my shoulder.

She’s smiling at me over a bowl of frosting.

“Keep talking, Pumpkin. I’m charging double.”

“You’re charging me?”

“Triple now.”

She dips one finger into the frosting and tastes it.

My attention catches on her mouth.

Fuck.

She notices.

Of course she notices.

“Want some?”

I look at the frosting.

Then at her lips.

“Careful what you offer me, sweetheart.”

Her cheeks turn pink.

Good.

Nice to know I’m not the only one having inappropriate thoughts in a commercial kitchen.

She scoops a little frosting onto her finger and holds it toward me.

“Here. Try it.”

I straighten.

“Autumn.”

“What? Afraid of a little sugar?”

“No.”

“Then open.”

Jesus Christ.

I should walk away.

Instead, I lean down and take the frosting from her fingertip.