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“Why?”

“Gives me somethin’ to look at while I’m workin’.”

So badasses can be vulnerable and romantic.

Good to know.

I tilted my head back and kissed Jake’s jaw. “If I’m right across the hall, you can come look at me while I work.”

“And thank fuck for that. Though, if I’m in there, I’m doubtin’ you’ll be gettin’ much work done.”

“And thank fuck for that.” Stepping away, I put my shoes on and turned back to him. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll work from my place today, but I’d love to try out the kitchen tomorrow. That okay?”

“Why would I set this up if it wasn’t?”

“Good point.”

“Do you wanna go shopping tonight and get anything else? When I went to get the stuff, there was all sorts of fancy shit at the store.”

“That’s okay. I have plenty I’ll bring.”

“Gotcha.”

I could tell from the look in his eyes that he did get me.

What he’d done touched me in a way that I knew would stay with me forever, but it was still my business. My pride in working hard and doing things myself meant a lot to me.

He so knows me.

*******

The next morning, I got up early and left Jake sleeping so I could get to Hyde’s before it opened.

Before bed, he’d given me the key and alarm info, which made me feel warm all over again. To show him how much it meant to me, I’d given him something else that made us both hot.

After packing up my supplies and laptop, I stopped at the grocery store for ingredients. Once I got everything settled at Hyde, I made a batch of scones and whipped up some sweet cream.

Huh. Who’d have thought a bigger mixer and oven would make things so much easier? It’s almost like those are imperative to baking. Nah. Just like I’m sure the extra million feet, give or take, of counter space won’t come in handy.

My first hiccup of the day came when I’d opened the bag of flour.

I knew my day was going to be hectic so I’d come up with a genius idea to save time by wearing my delivery outfit of a black wrap skirt with a purple camisole and black cardigan. Proving I was a daredevil that lived on the edge, I was also in strappy heels.

Since I had the tendency to wear half of my ingredients, this was not a smart idea. I was also forced to move at a snail’s pace to prevent spills, which meant it wasn’t even a time saving idea.

Note to self: Wear junk clothes and bring nice ones to change into. No one wants a cake delivered by someone covered in so much flour they look like they’re reenacting Scarface.

After making a pot of coffee, I sat down with a cup and started planning my cakes for the day. I was roughly sketching some ideas when I sensed someone watching me.

“What’re you doing here?” the voice accused, as if I’d broken in.

“Hi, Chloe. How’re you?”

Mother’s lessons have really been coming in handy. Who knew?

“Does Jake know you’re here?”

No. I like to break into random businesses and leave baked goods as my calling card. I call myself the Reverse Santa.