Page 97 of Just Like Home

“Here, I’ll cut them in half and you can try both.” He did so, rearranging the pieces so each plate now had half of both pastries.

He was trying to distract her. It was working. She shook her foolishness aside and refocused.

“I just need an answer to my question,” she said. “Are you still going to do this dance or what?”

He pushed the plate closer. “I need to know which of these you like better.” He took a bite of the cinnamon roll. “These are homemade—Betsy’s grandmother’s recipe. She sells out of them almost every day. They’re pretty hard to beat.” He looked at her plate. “Go ahead—try it. It’s not going to hurt you.”

It did smell amazing. Really amazing. And as much as a mouth could water for something it had never tasted, hers was watering now.

She picked up the pastry and smelled it.

Cole laughed. “Go ahead, Muscles.”

“Muscles?” She met his eyes.

“I saw your arms,” he said.

“You noticed my arms?”

“Hard not to.”

Her heartbeat thrummed, and she wished she had somewhere to hide. Instead, she found herself biting into the cinnamon roll. The taste of sweet cinnamon and sugar filled her mouth as she savored the bite.

He was eating his half of the pastry far too quickly, another bite swallowed in the time it took for her to swallow hers. “This is amazing.”

“I told you,” he said. “See what you’ve been missing out on.”

The words were innocent enough. Simple really. She didn’t eat sugar; she was missing out on cinnamon rolls. But for some reason, hearing someone else say it made her realize that she was missing out on so much more.

“You okay?”

Had her face given something away? She set what was left of her cinnamon roll on the plate and regained her composure. “I’m fine. And if I remember right, we were here to talk about you.”

He clapped his hands together, as if that would get the sticky frosting off, then found her eyes. “Listen, Charlotte, you really don’t need to be in on this mess with my ex. It’s an ugly situation.”

“I gathered.”

“So maybe it’s better if I bow out.”

“Better for who?”

He didn’t respond.

“Better for Amelia?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, I get it. I made a promise.”

“Right. You did. So, I think it’s time to buck up and do the right thing.”

He eyed her curiously. “Did you just say ‘buck up’?”

She sighed. “Yes. Do you know what it means?”

He seemed amused. She was seconds away from being made fun of and she knew it. “Well? Are we doing this thing?”

“Are you going to make me tell you about me and Gemma?” A serious expression crossed his face.

“Did I ask?” She figured she could return hisguffall day long.

---