Page 46 of Killer Confections
The touch feels wrong. My whole body tenses and I haveto resist the urge to shove his hand away.
This is normal. Couples touch like this all the time. Relax, Loxley.
My smile grows tight and I’m sure if the interior of the car wasn’t dark, he would see the grimace forming on my features.
He’s a nice guy. Give him a shot.
I have acome to Jesusmeeting with myself, and make the promise to enjoy the night. I want to get to know Chance. It’s the whole reason I called him. Our lives align perfectly. He’s a baker and I’m a baker…
Oh god. That’s all we have in common.
No, I’m sure there’s something else there. His whole life can’t just revolve around baking. He’s probably got hobbies and loves traveling like I do.
Yeah, I just need to give him some time. My smile turns genuine as we head to the restaurant and I feel the circling of excitement in my gut for the first time tonight.
Give him some time.
***
“…and the appropriate temperature for macarons is supposed to be three-hundred degrees, but Kent baked them at three-seventy-five. Can you believe that?” Chance laughs.
“No,” I deadpan, my elbow on top of the table and my chin resting in my palm as I toy with one of the napkins nearby.
‘Give him a shot,’ my ass! The guy is as boring as watching fucking paint dry. We’ve been here for almost two hours and all he’s talked about is Miller Family Sweets. I’ve tried to divert the conversation by asking about his childhood or his interests, and he’s given me quick brush off answers before returning to cake talk. He hasn’t even asked me anything about myself!
“Are you ready for the bill?” Our waitress, a lovelywoman who has watched me suffer through this date with reassuring glances, asks.
“Yes,” I answer quickly, making Chance’s eyes widen. His mouth is open, mid-sentence, before he closes it slowly.
Thank god.
He gives an awkward laugh before looking at our server. “Yes, we’ll take the bill.”
She nods, giving me a quick thumbs up when she’s out of Chance’s line of vision.
“I’m sorry,” my date shakes his head. “I’ve been so rude tonight. Would it be too desperate for me to ask for a redo?”
My brow furrows, “Redo?”
His lips quirk into a crooked smile that could soak any woman’s panties.
Except mine. I’ve been bone dry all night and I hate to admit it, but his easy attitude after treating our date like a therapy session is making me feel violent.
“A second date,” he suggests with a shrug. “I promise next time I won’t go off on a tangent. It just feels nice to vent to someone who understands.”
My silent rage douses slightly as I understand where he’s coming from. I haven’t run my business long enough to share his concerns, but I know I’ll get there one day. He doesn’t really seem to have an outlet for any of it. I mean, when you run a business of this caliber, friends are few and far between. You can’t go too far from your store without worrying about what’s going on behind closed doors without you.
I soften, “I wouldn’t mind that.”
A radiant smile breaks out on his face as he breathes a sigh of relief. “No work talk next time. I promise.”
I laugh as our server returns and hands the bill to Chance. He thanks her before peering down at the slip of paper. His hand stops halfway to the table, his wallet paused in mid-air as he frowns.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as he calls our waitress back to the table.
“Yes,” she says, looking between us.
Chance holds up the receipt. “You only added my meal. We’re together.” He points between us.
