“I thought you weren’t getting home until seven?” He glanced at his watch. It was five past, as he’d promised. If he’d known she was getting home earlier, he would have come to see her. He’d been practically twiddling his thumbs at home.
“I did. I came straight to the kitchen.” Her voice sounded a little off. Sure enough, her shoes and jacket were abandoned next to her sofa, her purse laying haphazardly on the floor next to them. “I’m stress baking.”
“What’s that?” His brows knitted as he followed her to the kitchen. She pointed at a stool in front of the breakfast bar.
“Sit.”
His lips twitched, but he did as directed, putting the shoe he’d brought with him on the stool beside him. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not.” She lifted the bowl and a balloon whisk. “But if you don’t want me to take it out on you, just let me whip this batter for a while.”
He watched as she attacked the contents of the bowl with the metal whip, her teeth gritted as the batter came together in a pale yellow mass. A small piece landed on the tip of her nose, but Daniel decided that right now wasn’t the time to tell her. She looked like a woman on the edge.
By the time she started scooping the batter into the cake cases, her shoulders had relaxed a little. She opened the oven, sliding the tray inside, then turned to look at him.
“You have a…” He gestured at her nose.
She reached up and wiped it with her finger, scowling as some batter came away on her tip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just did.” He gave her a half smile. “And anyway, you looked cute.”
“Well, I won’t be looking cute for long.” She turned the timer on the oven, then sighed visibly.
“What have I done to annoy you this time?” She’d seemed so happy to hear from him earlier.
“It’s not your fault.” She took her apron off and hung it on a hook. “Well not entirely.” She bit her lip and finally brought her gaze to his. “They know.”
Bemusement washed over him. “Who knows? And what do they know? This is like a mystery game.”
“Gray heard me talking to you on the phone. He knows I was with you last night. And so do the rest of my brothers.”
“Okay.” He still couldn’t figure out why she was so jittery. “Is that a problem?”
“Of course it is.” She grimaced. “I couldn’t tell them it was just a one night thing. They would’ve been around your place with blazing torches. I made something up about it, but of course they want to know everything about you.”
“You made something up?” He tipped his head to the side, scrutinizing her. Though her shoulders were more relaxed than they had been, he could tell she was still tense as hell. He wondered how much baking it would take for her to smile again.
She swallowed hard. “I told them it was just a first date. That I wasn’t sure if there’d be a second.”
He ran a finger over his bottom lip. “Why would you say that?”
“Because…” she hesitated, shaking her head. “Calling it a hook up is a surefire way to get your ass beaten by my brothers.”
He lifted a brow. “I’m not afraid of your brothers. I’m more concerned that you think it was just a hook up.”
“Wasn’t it? You said you couldn’t make any promises last night.”
His eyelashes swept down. “Yeah, well I probably said a lot of shit last night. But I want to see you again.” His gaze flickered up to hers. Her lips were open, her brows dipped. “How do you feel about it?”
Her hands trembled as she looked down at them. He immediately missed her gaze. “Becca, look at me.”
Swallowing hard, she looked up again.
“Taking you to the ball last night was the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” he said softly. “Having you on my arm made it all feel okay. And then later?” He shook his head, remembering the feel of her body against his. “It was the best night I’ve had for as long as I can remember. And I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want to go back to just being your boss, or your pet asshole, or whatever I was. I want to see you. To spend time with you. To be inside you again. So no, you’re not just a hook up. You’re more.”
Her eyes looked glassy. “I am?”
“Yeah.”