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He shrugs again, but there’s a spark in his eyes now. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

I blink at him, my lips twitching. “Are you flirting with me using baked goods?”

“Maybe.”

Goddamn. This man is sex on legs. His voice is deep and rumbly and his crazy indigo eyes are following me, sparkling like he’s got a secret he can’t wait to share.

I raise an eyebrow.

“You tellin’ me you want me to put something hot in my mouth?”

He goes very still.

Then, slow and rough, “I want you to see if you can handle it, Petals.”

Oh no.

Oh yes.

I step even closer, toe-to-toe now, looking up at him like I’m not about to self-combust in the flirty maxi-dress I put on just for dinner.

It’s got spaghetti straps and an elastic bodice that hugs my boobs just right. The rest of the thin fabric sort of drapes my body in a way that should be modest, but there are long slits cut strategically up the sides and, in the back and front, revealing glimpses of my legs when I walk.

His chest seems to rumble, and I want to high five myself when I spy him checking out a bit of thigh peeking through the side.

“Zeke Gordon, is this your idea of foreplay?”

He leans in a hair’s breadth, voice like smoke and sin. “Would you run if it was?”

My breath catches.

“No,” I whisper.

A beat passes.

My heart is pounding.

Then a kid shrieks outside, someone yells about the corn getting too charred, and the moment breaks like a soap bubble.

I blink and take a hasty step back.

“Right. Napkins. Getting the napkins.”

He chuckles low in his chest and picks up a brownie.

“Better save room for dessert, Petals.”

I grab the napkins and flee from the kitchen, face flaming and pulse racing.

Oh my God. Can you die from too much angst?

If so, then I’m gonna die on this ranch.

And it’s going to be his fault.

CHAPTER NINE-ZEKE

Dinner was a rambunctious affair.