Page 27 of Two Risks I'd Never Take Again

I pulled the first batch out of the oil and dipped them in the glaze. “These aren’t ready. You have to be patient.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled as he poked at the glaze on a doughnut. “Anyway, my stepdad died a year before my mom. My grandparents had passed away a few months before that. It was a rough few years.”

“How long was it after your mom died until you met Beau?” I drizzled on the praline icing and added pecans to the top of each doughnut.

“About three months.” He tugged the tray toward him. “Have I waited long enough?”

“Dig in.” I held my breath as he took a bite.

His moan was a good sign. “Oh, Tessa. This is incredible. I thought they were good before, but warm, they are on a whole different level of good.” He nudged the tray toward me. “Aren’t you going to have one?”

“I don’t eat doughnuts anymore.” I rarely admitted that to anyone, but the words just popped out.

“You are an interesting person, Tessa Best.” He closed his eyes as he took another bite. “I bet you heard a lot of jokes about your last name.”

“Yep. I was thebestat everything. My ex was one of the worst about that. He always told people I was hisBestgirl. I should’ve taken the hint. Being his best meant I wasn’t his only.” I spun around and stuck my head in the fridge, pretending to search for something.

Garrett pretended like I hadn’t just dropped a bomb. “I feel your pain. I had similar issues.”

“Let me guess. You were always Mr. Right.”

“Bingo.” He held up his hand and wiggled his thumb and forefinger. “Leaving these unwrapped is really helpful. Good call.”

“Now you don’t need me to feed you.” I had mixed feelings about that.

“But I still need you.”

What was I going to do at the end of the week when he didn’t need me anymore?

I’d wake up every morning and make the doughnuts just like I’d done for the last seven years.

Chapter 8

As soon as the movie ended, I jumped up and stretched. “I’m headed to bed.”

Garrett’s brow wrinkled. “It’s eight-thirty.”

“Yeah, and by the time I change into my jammies, wash my face, and brush my teeth, it’ll be a quarter to nine. Then I’ll read for fifteen minutes before turning out the light.” I walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with water before getting one of his pills out of the bottle. “Here’s your pain pill. I’m guessing these make it easier to sleep.”

He shrugged and held out his hand. “It helps.” After swallowing his medicine, he stood. “What are you reading?”

“A romance novel.”

His low chuckle was as satisfying as a warm doughnut. “That’s kind of like you not eating doughnuts. You read about what you won’t do, and you make what you won’t eat.”

That one sentence summed up my entire adult life. But how could he know that?

“What? I never said...” Had I talked in my sleep? At no point during our time together had I mentioned my issues with relationships, other than the slip about Skeeter.

“Let’s call it an educated guess on my part. You seriously go lights out at nine? Every night?” He winced as he stretched.

“Okay, Mr. Spy, I get that you live the night life and chase people around in the shadows long after I’m asleep, but the doughnuts don’t make themselves. The shop opens at six. And people show up, expecting to get doughnuts, which means I have to make them before six.” I picked up my phone. “We lead opposite lives.”

That was another good reminder of why I shouldn’t risk my heart on Garrett.

After getting ready for bed, I pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets. I wanted to know the thread count because these sheets were the most luxurious fabric I’d ever had against my skin.

I opened the book and tried reading where I’d left off. Normally, I’d be excited about the hero finally kissing the heroine, but tonight, my heart was torn. Reading about what I wouldn’t do wasn’t entertaining right now, so I closed the book and flopped back on the goose-down pillows.

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