“In a minute. I’m not done saying goodbye.” When his mouth reclaims mine and his tongue slips between my lips, I’m laughing.
It takes some effort on my part, since I don’t actually want to stop making out with him, but I find it in myself to pull away. Then I plant my hands against his chest to hold him back. “I want to cook you dinner tonight.” My voice is husky, and he smirks, looking pleased with himself.
“Can you cook?”
“I own a bakery, so yes, I know my way around a kitchen.”
His arms tighten and he eyes me, looking doubtful. “Babe, baking and cooking are two different things, and I don’t want to mention you don’t even have any food in your fridge.”
“I haven’t had time to get to the grocery store.” I wave him off. Last night I was going to stop at the store on my way home, but after getting my Christmas tree and seeing the time, I figured I could wait another day. “I’m actually a really great cook.”
“What are you going to make?” he questions with a curious smile.
“You’ll have to wait and find out,” I respond instantly, since I don’t actually know what I’m going to make. All I know is it’s going to be amazing.
“Now I’m looking forward to tonight more than I was, which seems impossible,” he states before he places his lips against mine.
I begin to lose myself in the feelings of desire he seems to bring out of me without trying. Knowing I won’t be getting to work at all if things continue, I give his chest a gentle shove, saying, “You need to go, and I need to get ready for work.”
“Right,” he agrees, seeming as lost as I am. “I’ll see you tonight. Call me when you get here.”
“Okay.” I nod while leaning up on my tiptoes to get one more kiss, but he shakes his head, holding me prisoner while keeping his mouth from mine.
“I mean call me when you reach the parking lot. I’ll help you bring up the groceries.”
My lips tip up into a smile, and I melt against him, even as I say, “I can carry up a few bags of groceries without your assistance.”
“Yeah, but you have a man who’s asking you to call him so you don’t have to, so work with me.”
I have a man. Lord, this is crazy and fast, but I can’t even try to deny it feels right. I give in. “I’ll call you when I get here.”
“Good.” He finally gives me the kiss I wanted, then steps back.
I feel tiny paws hit my shins, and I look down at LeFou’s white head, then bend to pick him up. “I’ll see you tonight, handsome boy.” I kiss his furry head, then hand him to his dad. “Have a good day, guys.”
“You too, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.”
“You will,” I confirm. I close the door when he turns and starts to walk down the hall, and then I go to my room and get dressed before grabbing my bag and heading to my car. I have a meeting with his accountant scheduled for this afternoon. If he tells me after he looks at my books that I can hire someone full time and still keep my business afloat, then I’m going to put out an ad in the paper and start setting up interviews. I love my shop, but I also really like what is happening between Gaston and me, and I know that if I want it to go somewhere, we’re going to need more than just a few stolen hours together.
After I get to work, the day seems to speed by. Gaston’s accountant comes in at noon and makes himself comfortable in my office with a few cookies and a cup of coffee. When he emerges an hour later, he tells me it will take him a few days to go over my books more thoroughly, but from what he can see at a glance, I shouldn’t be able to hire just one person full time but two if I want. I am a little surprised by this information but nonetheless hopeful.
Not long after he leaves, the girls show up for work. They only stay for two hours, since they have a game to cheer at this evening, so I make the most of the time I have their help. When they leave, I begin the process of shutting things down while tending to customers, and at six on the dot, I close up my shop and head down the block with a recipe for eggplant parmesan tucked in my bag that I’m hoping will prove to Gaston that I can cook.
I park at the grocery store ten minutes later and swing my door open. Just as I start to get out to go into the store, my cell phone, which is in the bottom of my purse, begins to ring. I see Leah’s picture on the screen after I dig it out and smile as I answer. “Please tell me you’re home.”