Page 23 of Hard Rock Desires

“Learning to bake,” he said. “Same as you.”

“Are you stalking me?” I demanded.

“Now why would I do that?” he grinned.

“I’m serious.” I pursed my lips at him. “This is kind of creepy.”

His gaze fell to my mouth, then flicked back up to my face.

“I mentioned that we’ve got some down time, yeah?” He shrugged easily. “Why not take the time to learn a new skill?”

“So you decided to learn baking?” I asked skeptically.

“I’m not going to lie and say you didn’t give me the idea,” he replied. “But after everything you said before, it started to sound like something I might want to try.”

“And what exactly did I say before that so piqued your interest?” I asked.

The instructor cleared his throat.

“If we can continue?” He nodded to me. “Would you please help our new student get up to speed?”

I opened my mouth to protest, for a multitude of reasons. One, I was barely keeping up with the class myself as it was. Two, this guy had just breezed in without a care that he was late and expected me to catch him up?

And three, this wasn’t just a regular guy. Every person in that classroom had their gazes glued to the two of us. This wasZain Westonof Until We Break — and they all knew it.

“So what’s first?” he asked blithely.

Trying not to feel even more flustered and overwhelmed as I already did, I pushed the mixing bowl, the bag of flour and the sifter toward him.

“Here,” I said. “Sift the flour.”

“Sift?” he asked. “How’s that work?”

I closed my eyes and prayed for patience.

“How about you show me, love?” he suggested.

If I tried to show him, all he’d see was me making a big old mess. On the other hand, if I was bad enough, maybe he’d choose someone else as a partner.

But as soon as I said it, I knew that was a no-go. No matter what he said, I knew he wasn’t here just because he wanted to take up baking. He was here for a reason.

He was here because of me.

Eight

Zain

Grace was so cute when she was flustered.

Her cheeks were pink and her ears had turned red at the tips. She flailed and fumbled as she tried to follow the instructor’s steps, pressing her lips together in concentration.

“What?” she asked me sharply.

“Hm?” I inquired.

“You’re staring at me.”

A slow smirk crossed my lips.