Page 16 of By His Play

“Anyone would think Grams hadn’t taught you well,” I tease.

Both of us have spent more hours than I can count in here with her over the years, making all kinds of things.

I’m not a natural cook. Kieran always found it easier than me. Considering he’s grown up without having to do anything for himself, I expected him to be clueless. But we quickly learned that wasn’t the case. All my hours spent in this kitchen making memories with Grams didn’t turn me into a natural chef.

There’s a lot about our childhoods that align, but while I was learning how to cook, sew, and a whole host of other things with my grandmother, Kieran and his brothers were looked after by nannies. From what he’s said, they were all wonderful and good at their job, but none of them were a replacement for a parent or grandparent.

I always felt sorry for him because I knew he was missing out. Or at least, he was until Grams took him under her wing as if he was her own.

“Haven’t baked a single thing in years,” he confesses. “I might kill us both with these.”

Moving closer, I take a better look at his treats.

They look incredible. The dough is golden and soft looking, the cinnamon butter sticky and sweet.

It’s been far too long since I’ve had a fresh, home-cooked cinnamon bun for breakfast.

Tears burn my eyes as memories of times gone by flicker through my head like a movie.

“Shit. It was meant to make you smile,” Kieran whispers, clearly chastising himself over my reaction.

Ripping my eyes from his goodies, I turn to look at the man himself.

A laugh tumbles from my lips at the sight of flour on his cheek and in the scruff on his chin.

His hair is still a mess from sleep, and despite his concern over my reaction, he’s relaxed and happy.

“You’re cute,” I say, reaching up to wipe the flour from his skin.

“Not usually what I hear from women, but I’ll take it.”

“Ah, sorry,” I tease before clearing my throat and putting on my best sultry voice. “Oh, Kieran, you’re so hot and sexy.” I trail my finger down his arm, over his bicep, and let out a sigh. “I can barely hold myself back.”

“You’re trouble,” he laughs, staring down at me with amused eyes.

I shrug one shoulder, feeling completely at ease in his company.

“Just how you like me,” I say, mimicking his words from before I fell asleep last night.

He gives me his full panty-melting, megawatt smile, and I can’t help but take a step back.

I may have been teasing him before, but my best friend really is hot as hell.

“So…would you like to have a go on my buns?”

He manages to keep a serious face for all of ten seconds before the grin returns and his laughter fills the air.

“No need to look so horrified.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“A cute one though, right?”

Shaking my head, I make my way to the dining table when he gently pushes me in that direction.

“So, what’s the plan today?” I ask, ignoring his need for me to stroke his ego.

“Whatever you want,” he says as the coffee machine comes to life, adding the rich scent of beans to the sweetness already in the air.

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