Page 26 of Baked

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hunter had not lefther side since the break-in. It had been three days and here he was, next to her again. Looking ridiculously sexy covered in frosting as he tried his hand at decorating cupcakes.

Rachel wanted to be annoyed. Protest at the overprotectiveness. Stamp her feet and tell everyone who was just “popping in” to leave her the hell alone. But a part of her knew it was in her best interest to let them all fuss.

After having her home turned upside down, reality came right up to her and slapped her in the face. She wasn’t safe.

But safety wasn’t her main worry right now. Not when it had been three whole days since Hunter had shown any signs of interest. Romantically, that was. He was smothering her with the other kind of interest. She couldn’t even pee without him questioning where she was going, but could she get a kiss? A handhold? A hug? Some flirtatious banter?

Nope. Nothing. Nada.

He’s changed his mind.

She knew it. Felt it. Something had shifted that night of the break-in. Even if she was still sleeping in his bed.And using him as a mattress.Yes. That too. Even sleeping on top of him felt platonic. Everything had been on the up and up, but now he made no move to touch her inappropriately. She hadn’t even felt him harden against her.

I could really go for some inappropriate touching.

How could he have gone from “for keeps” to this so quickly? Her thoughts continued to spiral, and a heavy sigh slipped from her lips as she gave the counter another wipe-down.

She practically heard Hunter’s head snap up. “Rachel?”

Rachel. Another twist of the knife. Not honeybun. Not baby. Her stupid, boring name.

She was going to do it. She was going to sigh again. But when she did, she immediately regretted it, because a second later Hunter’s hands were gripping her biceps and spinning her around to face him. Well, to look up at him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

No.“Yeah. Fine. I think I’m about done here; we should call it a night.”

“Rachel,” he repeated, taking her disappointment and adding in some fresh annoyance, “talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she lied again, this time attempting to detangle herself from his hold.

She did not detangle. In fact, despite one of his hands dropping, he still managed to effortlessly hold her in place. He even used a single digit under her chin to force her eyes back on him.

“Lie to me one more time and I’m gonna lose my shit.”

He’s gonna lose his shit? Is he kidding?

That was it. He’d pressed herbitchbutton, and she was ready to come out and play.

“Don’t you dare threaten me, Hunter Campbell, or so help me God, I’ll show you what losing your shit looks like.” She stamped her foot for full effect.

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