Page 76 of Wild As Her

“Mack’s great in the trailer, she helps prep dough, does the early shift, but she still has school. And I can’t do it all alone anymore.” Her eyes flash. “I need both of them.Notthat it’s any of your business.”

I open my mouth, then close it.

Beau doesn’t say a word. He just slides a pan out of the oven with the confidence of someone who’s done this a hundred times. Like he belongs here.

The smell hits me like a punch to the chest with the warm sugar, butter, cinnamon. It floods the kitchen like a memory I didn’t ask for. My mother used to bake cinnamon rolls in this same kitchen. Sunday mornings. Before things got complicated. Before everything cracked wide open.

I swallow hard and look away. It’s stupid. It’sjustcinnamon rolls. But the longer I stand here watching Beau move around the kitchen like it’shis,the tighter my chest gets. I know it’s irrational. I know Cami can hire whoever the hell she wants. But something about him in this space with her, makes my skin itch.

She glances over at me like she’s waiting for another smartass comment.

I stay quiet.

Because if I open my mouth right now, it won’t be about Beau. It’ll be about the fact that the kitchen smells like home. And this place hasn’t smelled like home since my mother died. And now the only thing that feels even close to home for me is Cami. Wherever she is, that’s where home is for me.

Cami looks over at me and when she catches my eyes, she softens, "What do you want, Jack?"

Because I'm feeling all the feels today, I tell her, “Didn’t realize we were holding auditions for Husband Material in the kitchen today.”

Cami smirks.“Oven’s hot. Gotta strike while the dough is rising.”

Beau looks confused and also like he'd prefer to be anywhere but in this kitchen right now.“Should I... go stir something?”

I mutter,“Yeah. Preferably away from her.”

Cami licks frosting off her finger, slow, sinful, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her eyes lock on mine, full of mischief and absolutely no shame.

Okay, so she wants to play dirty. She has no idea what she's about to unleash if she wants to take it to that level.

“Jealousy’s not a good color on you,” she says sweetly, her tone a little too smug for a woman committing dessert-based crimes.

My breath catches, and my heart does something violent in my chest.Jesus. That mouth. That look.The way her tongue sweeps over her fingertip, like it was the most natural thing in the world, I felt it all the way in my dick.

I shift my stance, trying to ignore the very real and obvious reaction in my pants. No such luck.

“You keep doing that,” I say, my voice low and rough, “and I’m going to forget there’s anyone else in this room.”

Her eyes flare, just for a second. There’s a flicker of surprise, heat, challenge.

“Oh?” she asks, cocking her head, finger still halfway to her lips again.

I step closer, my body practically buzzing with the need to touch her. “Yeah. And if you think Iseemjealous now, wait until I show you what Idowhen something’s mine.”

The air between us snaps. She freezes, breath hitching, frosting completely forgotten.

Cami bites her lip, cheeks pink, eyes dancing as she smirks at me, saying nothing.She doesn’t have to.

We lock eyes across the kitchen like two people about to either kiss or body slam each other. Honestly? Probably it could go either way. This is why she gets under my skin. She’s my kryptonite.

“Fine,” I say, stepping closer. “Bake withhim.See if I care.”

“Already am,” she smiles up at me with murder in her eyes. “And guess what? He'sniceto me.”

“You don't think I'mniceto you?” I challenge.

“Oh no,youare.Sonice." She rolls her eyes, and it makes me want to spank the sass right out of her.

“Good,” I say, leaning in a little closer. “Glad we agree.”

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