Page 26 of Bad Boy Bakers, Vol. 2

Jonah and Rachel had elected to adopt the puppy a few months before.

He was a mix of labrador and something huge, with paws that suggested he might rival her for size once he was full grown.

He’d hit that gangly stage of puppyhood, where he stumbled all over his feet and into things.

All the puppy playfulness in a body he didn’t realize was forty pounds and growing.

Rebecca had volunteered to keep him while the kids were in New York, a decision she was regretting as the little troublemaker evaded her again, her best bra clamped between his teeth.

He’d swiped it out of her underwear drawer as she’d been getting ready.

That thing was La Perla, damn it. Blue silk with frastaglio lace, she’d bought it on sale on her fiftieth birthday, to remind herself she wasn’t old, and she’d only worn it a handful of times.

She damned well wasn’t giving up without a fight.

“Otis, you drop that right now!”

Eyes bright with glee over the game he thought they were playing, the puppy scrambled onto the sofa, leaping over the arm and racing toward the kitchen.

“Oh, for the love of—”

The doorbell rang.

Crap! She hadn’t gotten dinner started, hadn’t gotten her bath, hadn’t even changed clothes yet. And he was here.

“You are not even on the list of my favorite grandchildren, dog!”

Abandoning pursuit of the thief, Rebecca sucked in a few breaths and tried to calm herself. It was fine. This was Grey. The guy who’d been there for her entire awkward tween years. He could handle seeing her in the same jeans and sweater she’d worn to work.

She pulled open the door to find a big bouquet of irises in her field of view. “Oh.” Her temper immediately softened.

Grey peered around the flowers, arching a brow. “You okay? You’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been having a standoff with the dog. He thinks we’re playing keep away.”

He looked confused. “You have a dog?”

“Jonah and Rachel have a dog. I’m dog-sitting until they’re back from Syracuse tomorrow, so I’m a little behind on everything. Come on in.”

Lured by the prospect of someone new to adore him, Otis came prancing to the door, the bra dangling from his mouth, his tail whirling like a helicopter.

Grey pointed at the puppy. “Drop it!”

At the unmistakable command in the tone, Otis plopped his butt to the floor and opened his mouth.

Too stunned by her own heated reaction to that voice, Rebecca wasn’t fast enough to snatch the bra from where it landed at Grey’s feet.

He shifted the flowers to the crook of his arm and crouched, scratching the dog’s head with one hand and picking up the lingerie with the other.

By the time he straightened to his full height, his eyes had turned molten.

“I… um.” Jesus, she couldn’t think with him looking at her like that. As if he really hoped she’d put it on so he could take it right back off again. With his teeth.

Oh, mercy.

Without a word, he held out the bra.

Pressing her lips together, she gingerly took it. “I’ll be right back.”

Face flaming, she hurried down the hall to her room, stowing the bra in the closet. She’d examine the damage later.

Shutting the door behind her, she rejoined Grey in the living room. He was still smoldering at her as he extended the flowers. “These are for you.”

More than a little fluttery, she took the bouquet.

The combination of the smolder and the sweetness made her a little lightheaded.

No one had given her flowers in a romantic context…

well… ever. Lonnie had been more apt to surprise her with her favorite candy or bring something home for the kids.

No one had ever tried to romance her before. Not really.

Riding the wave of gratitude and pleasure, she rose to her toes, sliding her free arm up his chest to tug his mouth down to hers.

She meant it to be soft and sweet. And brief.

But his arms came around her, banding her against the strength of his body.

Moaning with approval, she pressed closer, ready and willing as he took the kiss deeper, until she wanted to forget all about the flowers and dinner and drag him straight back to her room for an entirely different kind of dessert than the pie she had planned.

Otis barked, reminding her of the forty-five-minute game of keep away and the fact that she hadn’t shaved.

Damn it. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but by God, she wasn’t breaking her celibacy with hairy legs.

Struggling to find some control, she throttled back the kiss, dropping to her feet. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t have time to redo my makeup.”

“Not like you need it.”

Huffing a laugh, she eased out of his hold. “Thanks for that. And for the flowers. They’re gorgeous.”

He trailed her into the kitchen, watching as she found a vase and put the irises in water. They made a lovely centerpiece to the kitchen table, and she automatically pulled out placemats, napkins, and candles to make a little tablescape.

“Dinner will be a little late. Courtesy of the mischief maker over there, I haven’t gotten it started yet.”

“I’m sure we can find a way to entertain ourselves.”

Did he mean for his voice to sound like pure sex? Or was that just her long-neglected libido panting after him?

Squeezing her thighs together, she took a few more calming breaths and moved to the sink to wash her hands. “Let me just get this started.”

“Want me to play sous chef?”

“If you like.”

He moved beside her at the sink, close enough his shoulder brushed hers as he thrust his hands beneath the running water. Needing some distance to keep her head, she dried off her hands and began pulling out ingredients.

“What can I do?”

“Debone that rotisserie chicken while I get the pasta started.”

Quickly rolling up the sleeves of his black button-down shirt, he opened the deli container and began pulling meat off the bone.

Meanwhile, she started a large pot of water for pasta and set the oven to preheat.

When she began piling assorted cans of soup, sour cream, cream cheese, butter, and spices on the counter, his eyes brightened. “Are you making chicken tetrazzini?”

“Yeah. It’s your mom’s recipe.”

Grey sucked in a breath, and she was afraid she’d made a misstep. His voice, when he spoke, was a little thicker. “I haven’t had it since she died. Damn, I’ve missed it.”

Heart recognizing the ache of loss, she stroked a hand down his arm. “When did you lose her?”

“Last year. Cancer.” Twitching his shoulders, he got back to work on the chicken. “Dad passed about five years ago. Stroke in his sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like.” She began mixing ingredients for the casserole.

“Daddy had a heart attack when the kids were in college. Mama wasn’t ever really the same after that.

She wasn’t sick. The doctor said she was in remarkably good health.

One day she just… didn’t wake up. I think she just didn’t want to go on without him. ”

“From what I remember, your parents were devoted to each other.”

Rebecca smiled, remembering. “They were. I think that’s part of why I never dated after my divorce. If I couldn’t have what they had, I didn’t want to make the effort.”

His hands stilled. “You haven’t dated? At all?”

She refused to be embarrassed about that. “No.” When he only continued to stare, she arched a brow in challenge. “That shocks you.”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re a vibrant, beautiful woman. I’d have thought you’d want companionship, at the least.”

“I figured out a long time ago that what I want and what I need are often not the same thing. I learned how to do without a lot. But since Lonnie died, I guess I’ve been rethinking everything.

He was our age. Not a spring chicken, but not old.

It’s sobering to know that it can all be snuffed out in an instant.

I feel fortunate to still be here. To see my kids marry and start their own families.

I certainly hope I’ve got a lot of years to go, but you never know.

And I find that I don’t want to waste whatever time I have left.

I don’t want to have more regrets when I’m called home. ”

“Do you have a lot of regrets?”

“When it comes to you? So many.”

Her gaze snagged on his and held. It was so damned hard not to get trapped in all the what ifs. Those of the past. Those of the present. Yet if she let herself fall down that rabbit hole, she’d paralyze herself with indecision.

The pasta on the stove boiled over, breaking the tension. She spun toward it, nudging the pot off the heat and quickly sopping up water from the stovetop with a kitchen towel.

“For what it’s worth, not coming back sooner was the biggest of mine.”

Clutching the towel, she turned to face him. “You came back. That’s what matters.”

Clearly tired of being ignored, Otis gave a yowling bark and started to jump up toward the chicken.

Grey twisted, neatly blocking the jump with a knee. “No, sir. Down.”

The puppy talked back, as if to say, “But, chicken!”

“Do I look like I have ‘Sucker’ tattooed on my forehead?”

Otis laid down, head on his paws, face mournful.

Rebecca laughed, glad for the clear change of mood. “So, what was your business downtown today?”

He handed over the chicken for her to add to the casserole. “I was meeting with a realtor.”

“Oh, you’re buying a house?”

“Well, I’m looking to buy land. Hopefully, there will be some kind of dwelling on it to start until I can build what I want. But no, I plan to open a center to help aid in the transition period for veterans moving back into civilian society.”

“Like the program Jonah did?”

“Less skills training and more helping vets find their new purpose. I did something similar out in Montana when I got out.”

By the time she’d assembled the casserole, he’d given her the overview. It was an ambitious project. Then again, he’d always been an ambitious man.

“Do you think you’ll really be able to do that here?”

“I’m trying to find a property so that I can do that here.”

She slid the casserole into the oven and set the timer on autopilot.

Would he find what he actually needed here? If he didn’t, did that mean he was leaving again? Just the idea of it had her gut twisting into knots. She couldn’t voice the worry. Her not being able to trust him in the first place had led to so many problems. She could wait and see.

Grey was right there as she straightened.

He took her hands in his. “Look, it’s one idea for what I can do with my retirement.

It’s not the only thing. It’s just what I’m exploring right now.

If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, and I’ll come up with something else.

I’m not going anywhere. Not so long as you’re here. Okay?”

Looking into his face, she believed him. The tension bled out. “Okay.”

He brushed a kiss to her brow. “Good. Because we’ve got a bigger thing to figure out.”

“What’s that?”

“How are we going to tell Jonah we’re dating?”