Page 72 of Half Baked

Hayden runs his fingers through my hair and smiles. He’s watching me overthink this. He’s made it clear that he can recognize when that happens.

With a kiss to the top of my head, he clarifies. “I know you don’t open the bakery today. So, stay with me. I’ll make you breakfast, and you can have your coffee as sweet as your heart desires. We can go down to the beach and not worry about a thing all day.”

“What’s for breakfast?” I ask, pretending to think about the offer.

“Actually, I learned how to make these strawberry croissant things and never got to show off my skills.”

A giggle escapes me as Hayden rolls us. Above me, he grins, and it’s one of those smiles that reaches his eyes and sends butterflies through my chest.

“Let’s see how good of a student you’ve been.”

“Poppy, sit your ass down.”

“If you would just?—”

“No.” He points a whisk at me, batter dripping on the kitchen island between us. “I am doing this for you, it’s agesture.”

I snap my mouth shut and nod. I’m not used to being the one sitting on the bar stool watching. But I have to admit, he looks good baking for me.

“I thought I heard voices,” Beckett says happily, his eyes darting between us. He takes in Hayden’s T-shirt that I threw on over my swimsuit and grins ear to ear. “Good morning, Poppy.”

“Morning, Beckett,” I reply, pulling out the stool beside me. “Want breakfast?”

“Is it going to be safe to eat?”

“Hey—” Hayden turns from the oven and thumps the baking sheet in his hands down on the counter.

“Don’t worry.” I turn to Beckett, ignoring his interjection. “I’ve been watching him.”

“Be honest, you’ve never been able to take your eyes off of me.”

“This is worse than you two fighting all the time,” Beck mutters, rising from the stool once again and crossing over to the coffee pot. “I’ll be back when the food is ready.”

He pours a cup and disappears from the room with a shake of his head. Turning back, I see Hayden sliding the pastries onto a cooling rack. He’s careful, precisely moving through all the steps just as I showed him. Maybe Hayden has been paying closer attention to me than I’ve ever realized.

Sitting back, I don’t interject again. I watch him pull the custard from the fridge and fill the croissants. Of course, he goes heavy on the filling. But as I sip my coffee and watch the handsome man before me work, for once I don’t mind in the slightest that there is something deviating from my plan.

He layers the completed treats into a container, leaving some for Beckett on the counter, and motions over his shoulder. “Eat these on the beach?”

“Yes, please.” I jump up from the stool and move around the island to meet him. Hayden grabs my hand and together, we make our way outside and across the yard. It’s one of those mornings that have a bite in the air, but you can already feel the sun starting to warm the day. A gentle breeze catches my hair, and I use my free hand to brush it aside as we head down the stone stairs to the beach.

Beside the bottom step, there is a storage chest. Releasing my hand, Hayden opens it and withdraws what looks to be like a blanket-sized beach towel. He makes quick work spreading it across the sand and as we settle in, he offers me the container of pastries.

“Alright, baby. Let me have it,” Hayden murmurs when I select a croissant from the top. I can’t hide the delighted sigh that escapes me with my first bite. He did well. Really well.

Reaching forward, he wipes a bit of powdered sugar from the corner of my lip and smiles. “Good?”

“Good,” I concede, holding it out for him to try.

“Damn. I could definitely work for you at the bakery,” he mumbles through his bite of croissant. His one bite manages to be more than half the treat, and I finish the rest quickly.

“I thought we weren’t going to worry about anything all day,” I point out through the mouth full of strawberries and heaven.

Hayden wraps his arms around my middle and kisses me softly. “You can’t fault me for wanting more time with you,” he murmurs. “That doesn’t count as talking about our worries.”

“Mmm, well if it doesn’t count,” I smile against his lips. “But if you work at the bakery, I won’t get to see you looking sexy in that fireman’s uniform.”

“Oh, so you do like that? I seem to recall you saying I looked like a frat boy in a Halloween costume—and you made sure to tell me that wasn’t a compliment.”

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