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“What does it mean?” I whisper, positive she has no idea.

“Tabby…” My best friend warns.

I look at my friend then back to her daughter’s round eyes. “Whisper it to me.”

Emberly waves us away, shaking her head.

Coco’s eyes widen again, and she gets close, whispering, “Fart.”

I do not laugh. It takes all my strength, but I do not laugh. Instead I nod seriously.

“Mama’s under a lot of pressure right now.” Walking over to the nearest tray, I lift a beige little biscuit with dark purple blueberries in it. “It looks good to me!”

“I’m almost out of blueberries.” Emberly’s spooning another batch onto a tray. “This is my last cookie sheet.”

I take a bite and thick, buttery goodness fills my mouth. “Hey!” I nod, bending to put Coco on her feet. “These are delicious!”

“Which ones?” My best friend’s head snaps up. “Ugh, those are too buttery!”

“Is there such a thing?” I stuff the rest of the little cake in my mouth. “Stop making scones. Nobody in Oceanside will know the difference, and we’re going to have to feed the rest of these to the ducks.”

“I want to feed the ducks!” Coco jumps up, holding her hands over her head.

“Sorry, that was a joke.” She frowns and does a little whine. “We’ll wait until they’re stale and throw them at people.”

That makes her laugh, but Emberly scowls. “We’re not throwing scones at anybody. Would you help me box those up? They’ll have to do, I guess. André’s waiting.”

“These will do fine. They’re delicious.” I grab a rectangular plastic bin and line it with parchment. “Coco, come help me.”

The little girl hops over to where I’m filling the bin with scones and climbs on the stool. “Mommy says scones are for tea time.”

“Only if you’re British.” I’ve emptied two trays. “Take these trays to the sink.”

The pastries are quickly packaged, and I’m heading out the door for André’s when I skip a step. Chad is right outside, looking like sex in a uniform and grinning so I can see that dimple.

“Well, hello, there.” I give him a radiant smile. “Scone?”

I lift the lid of the container to show him the small biscuits. This morning I put on a silky red wrap-dress, but I left my hair hanging down in dark chocolate waves around my shoulders. I’ve noticed Chad seems to dig a more natural look, so I smoothed some coconut gloss on my lips and went with mascara and powder.

His eyes stay on me. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Hmm…” My eyes slide to the side. “Something for later, perhaps?”

He leans against the side of the building, that sexy smile firmly in place. “Seems like I promised to use my handcuffs on you.”

Lowering the lid, I act casual, not like his words are making my panties wet. “You might need to work on keeping those promises.”

“Maybe I can work on it tonight.”

“I have an hour lunch break at noon.”

“Is that so?” Our bodies have somehow drifted closer together with only the plastic box between us.

“Yep.”

Whiskey eyes hold mine, and he’s leaning closer. I feel pretty sure I’m about to get one of those toe-curling kisses when Emberly sticks her head out the door. “Tabby! André just called about the scones!”

“Oh, shit.” I straighten. “I guess I’ll see you later.”