Page 43 of All’s Well that Friends Well (Lucky in Love #2)

JULIET

“Oh, stop whining,” I say to Luca as he stands at the door to his office, frozen with his hand on the handle. “Come on. Open it. Go.” When he still doesn’t move, I poke him in the back. “ Go. ”

“I don’t?—”

“Everyone else is eating lunch in the break room,” I say patiently. “So you should go to the break room too. Let them see for themselves that you don’t just plug in to a port to recharge.” I step around him to look him in the eye.

“You need to eat anyway,” I say. “So get moving. Why did you hire me if you weren’t planning to listen to my ideas?”

“Rodney made me,” Luca mutters, and I stifle a laugh.

“Any other reason? Like maybe that I could be a helpful asset?”

He grunts, and I nod .

“Yep,” I say. “That’s the one.”

Luca lets out a long, shuddering sigh. “Fine,” he says. “Fine. But for the record, I’m against this.”

Big baby. “You’re acting like a man child. It’s a few changes to your normal routine,” I say. “Not that hard to adapt to. I have faith in you.”

He grumbles but opens the door anyway, and I follow him, walking a suitable distance behind.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m supposed to walk next to him. I have no idea.

One thing I do know for sure? Luca Slater likes me.

I don’t know how much he likes me, or exactly what kind of feelings are going on in that broad, muscular chest of his, but he likes me.

A dopey smile has spread over my face as we walk to the break room, and I don’t bother trying to get rid of it. I’m too happy, too excited. All I need to know now is if he wants the same things I do. Whether he can move on from his past, and whether he sees the same future I do.

I startle as I bump into Luca, my face squishing into his back. We’ve reached the break room without me realizing it, and I didn’t realize Luca had stopped walking, either.

“Ow,” I say, wriggling my nose a little.

Luca looks over his shoulder at me, one brow raised. “That desperate to get closer?” he says in a low voice.

“Always,” I whisper back.

His lips twitch. “Trouble,” he says, and my happiness blooms further. Then he looks forward once more and strides into the break room.

The counters could use some wiping down; it’s the first thing I notice, probably because it’s what I’m used to looking at.

But it doesn’t take long for my attention to fall on the shocked expressions of everyone present instead.

Marianne and Josh are seated next to each other—totally dating, and despite what Luca says, they’re cute together—with a few more people at their table.

Over by the counter, Prue watches the microwave as it hums. The hush that falls over the room causes Dell’s head to pop up from behind the refrigerator door, where he’s presumably hunting for something.

“Hi,” I say, smiling at everyone. Then I cross over to the fridge, scooting past Dell and reaching up to grab the plastic container I’ve stored on top. “Any food allergies in here?”

The only answer I get is silence and curious looks, so I nod.

“Perfect! I brought cookies this morning, and I need to get rid of them before I go home or my sisters will never forgive me. We’ll eat all of them in a day. Does anyone want some? Chocolate chip,” I clarify. “No nuts.”

There’s more silence for a brief moment as all eyes fall on me.

I wiggle the container slightly, letting the cookies rustle around inside.

I baked them last night and snuck a couple for Aurora and India, but I stashed the rest in here this morning.

I figure a sweet treat never hurts when it comes to warming people up.

I shake the container again, holding it a bit higher this time, until Marianne holds up her hand.

“I’ll take one,” she says with a tentative smile.

I beam back at her and pop the top off the container. I think we might still be friends.

“I’m setting them here,” I say, putting them on the counter. “Everyone, please help yourselves. And if you have requests for other baked goods, let me know. I’ll take any excuse to try a new recipe. ”

“You like to bake?” Josh says, standing up and grabbing two cookies.

“She loves it,” Luca says dryly from behind me. “And she’s good at it. Eat those—she’ll keep making more.” He gestures at the Tupperware and then settles himself awkwardly in an open chair.

Josh and Marianne exchange looks as Josh sits back down and passes Marianne one of the cookies. I ignore this, because it’s going to take people a while to get used to me and my dynamic with Luca. I’ll just carry on. So I glance over at Luca, pointing at the cookies.

“Do you want one, Mr. Slater?”

He blinks at me, looking surprised. I take that as a yes and grab him the biggest one, the one with the most chocolate chips. Then I return to his seat and plop down in the chair next to him.

“I really think you’d like these if you’d just try them,” I say.

“I have a confession,” he mutters under his breath, picking up the cookie and looking at it.

“I’m listening,” I murmur back, hopefully quiet enough that people don’t hear. They’re standing up with the sliding of chairs and swarming the cookie tub. “Please share.”

“I’ve devoured every single thing you’ve given me to eat,” he says. Then he takes a big bite of the cookie.

And those words should not sound as sensual as they do. They really shouldn’t. But my heart flutters. It actually flutters, little wings in my chest, as my stomach swoops.

“Say that word again,” I breathe.

Luca leans the tiniest bit closer, his gaze clashing with mine. “ Devour, ” he says in a low voice.

I shiver. “I notice you didn’t ask which word I meant. ”

He turns his attention back to his cookie. “Your cheeks are bright pink,” he murmurs, his lips twitching.

I’m sure he’s right. “Have you really liked my food?” I say. I find myself blinking as those stomach swoops and flutters are drowned out by something more potent—out-of-control tears stinging in the corners of my eyes.

Ugh. Why does this make me emotional? Why?

“Yes. I—” But he breaks off, peering over at me from behind his glasses. “Are you crying again?”

“I’m feeling a surge of joy,” I say with a little sniffle.

I squeeze my lids shut and open them, which helps.

“I’ve been trying to get on your good side with all those cookies and brownies and bars.

” Then I frown at him as something else occurs to me.

“You could have said something, you know?” I lean sideways, nudging him with my elbow.

“What was your favorite? I’ll bake more. ”

His lips twitch at this, but he keeps his gaze on the cookie, which he’s now breaking little pieces off of, popping them in his mouth one by one. “The peach crumble was excellent.”

I nod enthusiastically, brightening even more. “It was, wasn’t it? Isn’t it delicious?”

“It was delicious,” he admits. He pauses, glancing at me. “Where’s your lunch?”

“Oh,” I say, scooting my chair back. “It’s in the fridge. I’ll—” But I break off, startling as I feel his touch on my knee. It’s little more than a brush, barely any pressure, but goosebumps erupt up my arms and legs all the same.

“I’ll get it,” he says gruffly, once again not looking at me. “I need mine anyway.”

“I—all right. It’s in the paper bag,” I say, my voice faint. “With my name on it. ”

He nods and stands, moving through the room easier now that people have returned to their seats with their cookies.

I’d say my baking experiment was a success, which is a strangely satisfying realization. Making people happy, helping them warm up to each other—I knew I liked those things, but I’m not sure I realized how much I liked them.

I’ll bring treats once a week for as long as I’m working here.

When Luca sits back down in his chair next to me, he passes me my lunch without speaking and then opens his own. I watch with interest as he begins pulling food out, because I’ve never thought about it before, but I’m interested—what does Luca Slater eat for lunch?

A sandwich comes out first, and I blink; I guess I expected something more sophisticated, or maybe more…grumpy? I don’t know. But it’s a sandwich in a sandwich bag, wheat bread cut into two triangles.

Next comes a protein bar of some kind, probably the sort that tastes like sawdust. I’ve eaten my fair share of those, and they’re palatable, but they’re not great.

I wrinkle my nose and keep watching as he finally pulls out another sandwich bag, this one stuffed with apple slices and strawberries.

The apple slices have turned a little brown, but that’s to be expected; they’ll still taste good.

I nod at Luca’s sandwich as he pulls it out of the bag. “What kind?” I say.

He grunts without looking at me, a faint flush of red creeping up his neck. After a second of what looks like internal debate, he says, “Peanut butter and jelly.”

Incredible. Delightful. A smile spreads over my lips as I look at him .

My giant manly boss, the one I’m over halfway in love with, is eating good old peanut butter and jelly for lunch.

“It’s good,” Luca says before I can respond, his voice defensive.

“I agree,” I say quickly, my smile growing. “I love peanut butter and jelly. I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect it. I figured you’d have a protein salad or a bunch of kale or something.”

His broad shoulders jerk into a shrug as his eyes finally dart over to me. “I like what I like.”

And for a second, it feels like he’s telling me something. But then his gaze drops away from mine and down to my paper bag. “Eat your food,” he says. “Don’t just stare at me.”

“But I like staring at you,” I say with a sigh. I keep my voice quiet as I go on, “You’re so handsome.”

The corner of his lips twitches. “You’ll get over it,” he says.

He’s wrong. I won’t get over it.

But he just keeps speaking. “Come on, eat,” he says. “We don’t have all day in here.”

Boo. He is right about that. So I work my way methodically through my lunch, stopping only when I get a text, my phone buzzing in my little pink bag I’ve set on the table next to my food.