Page 13 of Fairy Cakes in Winter

With my shoulders slumped in defeat, I turned to dry my hands. Or air-dry them. I’d read somewhere that dryers in public restrooms recycled germs and until I studied that hypothesis thoroughly, I’d stick to paper towels.

I wiggled my fingers, scanning the relatively empty men’s room. One man stood at the urinal and another was in the midst of a heated conversation, his cell cradled at his ear as he fiddled with the zipper on his backpack.

And me…trying to muster the courage to deal with my stupidity.

Look, I highly doubted Scott was still out there, so it was really a matter of bucking up and moving on with a note to self: brave and stupid were not the same things.

Pep talk complete, I squared my shoulders, reached for the handle on my suitcase, and pivoted on my heels—into a solid block of man.

“You’re here.” Scott shot a scrutinizing glance at me before moving to the urinals.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have to pee and I certainly wasn’t going to stand next to him with his dick out after what I’d said, so…I washed my hands again, my gaze fixed on Scott’s broad shoulders in the mirror.

He joined me at the sink a minute later and gave me a sideways once-over. “What was that all about?”

“What?” I squeaked.

“The code.”

“Uh…” I licked my lips nervously and shrugged. “Nothing. I didn’t, um—”

“Yeah, you did.” He straightened and moved to the dryer.

“You shouldn’t use that. Germs and bacteria,” I blurted, citing my findings regarding health and sanitation concerns.

Scott arched a brow, ignoring my lame attempt at a subject change. “Thanks for the info. I’m going to guess you wanted me to follow you in here.”

“Yes.”

“And then…what?”

“I hadn’t worked that part out,” I admitted.

He chuckled, low and deep. “Really? ’Cause I think you did, and if it’s what I think it was…you need a tactical lesson or two.”

“Excuse me,” a young man with a lilting British accent and wet hands gestured at the hand dryer.

“Sorry about that.” Scott stepped aside, pulling me with him. “Number one, you can’t just say ‘code,’ and number two…you gotta watch out. There are a lot of shitheads in the world who—”

“Shh!” I smacked his biceps and glanced frantically around the empty-for-now restroom. “We can’t talk about this here.”

“Relax. He’s gone.” He waited a beat. “And you started this. That was your code, Theo.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and winced. “I know. Bad idea.”

“A reckless one, for sure.”

“Now what?” I whispered, following Scott to the sink when someone walked in.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. N-never mind.”

He raised his brow and hiked his thumb toward the stalls. “You want—really?”

“Sure, or…I’m open to suggestions,” I choked out.

Scott’s slow, pirate’s smile scared and thrilled me at the same time. “Suggestions. Right. Well, you’re the one calling the shots now. Tell me what you want, Theo.”