Page 27 of How Sweet It Is (Willow Shade Island #3)
I did it. I smoothed things over with Levi, and I have a date to a wedding on Saturday.
Wait. Not a date. Two friends going together.
I try to tell myself it’s no big deal, but my heart still pounds like it means something.
But it can’t mean anything. My parents need me back home. This whole thing is temporary.
An hour later, Levi comes into my office and hands me one of his now-famous Murder in the Frost Degree cupcakes. “Want to try my flagship gluten-free cupcake for my new section?”
I don’t know why this makes me tear up, but I blink back the moisture. “Sure.”
Levi either doesn’t notice or pretends not to notice.
I eat the chocolate shaving first. Divine.
I peel back the paper and take a bite. I’m surprised by the cherry filling.
I hadn’t realized he’d filled it with anything.
The cupcake is spongy and delicious, just like every other creation he’s made.
As I eat it, I might or might not have let out a soft moan. Whatever delight this is, is magic.
I swallow. “It’s fantastic.”
Levi rocks back on his heels, clearly pleased. “Great. I’m just not sure what to charge.”
I know what his proprietary gluten-free blend costs him now. “How much flour did it take, and how many cupcakes did it give you?”
He rattles off the numbers, and I do the math. “Six dollars.”
He rubs his jaw, considering. “What about five ninety-nine? Sounds friendlier. Less… commitment.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Look at you, being all business-minded. Great job.”
He grins and leans over me, his hands on my arm rests, his voice dropping just enough to curl heat around my spine. “You keep talking like that and I’m going to start charging you.”
“Oh yeah?” I lean a little toward him, feeling a bit flirty. “What’s your rate?”
He pretends to think. “Hmm. One smirk? Fifty cents. A snide comment? Maybe a dollar. But if you bat those eyes at me again…” His gaze snags mine. “That’ll cost you a kiss.”
My heart stutters, but I keep my tone light. “That seems steep.”
He stands and shrugs, unapologetic. “Premium goods, sweetheart. You know how it is. Quality costs.”
I shake my head, trying not to smile too hard as my heart pounds in my chest. “And what about cupcakes? Same exchange rate?” I take another bite.
He leans down again, even closer, voice lower now. His breath tickles my ear. “Cupcakes are free. But only if you eat them in front of me so I can watch you close your eyes like that again.”
I freeze midbite. My eyes had fluttered closed. I know they had. I chew quickly, trying not to blush.
He chuckles, victorious. “Told you. Premium.”
Levi works the rest of Sunday afternoon testing other gluten-free creations to showcase when we open on Tuesday morning. By the time we close, he’s worked out the things he wants to debut with.
As he’s mopping the floor, I walk over and lean against the counter, trying to appear casual. My heart, of course, is anything but. It’s thumping like it wants to stage a prison break.
My mouth starts moving before I give my brain permission. “Do you want to have dinner with me?”
The mop squeaks to a stop. Levi looks up, eyebrows raised. “I am hungry. But let’s just be perfectly clear here.” He points the end of the mop at me like it’s a lie detector. “This is not a date, right?”
“Absolutely not a date,” I say, too quickly.
He narrows his eyes, mock suspicious. “You’re sure? Because if I show up in my sexiest T-shirt and cologne that smells like overconfidence and you call it a date afterward, I’ll be very confused.”
I laugh despite myself. “You own cologne?”
“Vanilla and heartbreak,” he deadpans. “It’s very niche.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “Just dinner. Two people eating food. Like normal human beings.”
He props the mop against the wall and wipes his hands on a towel, studying me a moment longer, like he sees something I haven’t said out loud.
“All right, then,” he finally says. “I know the perfect place. But you can’t go like that.”
I look at my work clothes, a blue blazer and slacks. They’re perfectly acceptable. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Where we’re going, you’ll need some good old-fashioned jeans. You do own a pair, right?” He raises one eyebrow at me.
I frown, not liking where this is going. Is he taking me to a mud-wrestling pit or something? “Yes, I own jeans. Why? Where are you taking me?”
“Relax. It’s just a bar with some really great greasy food. Let me finish up here, and we’ll head out.”
I nod and turn away, pretending to inspect the ingredients he keeps on his shelving unit. But my stomach flips like I just jumped off a cliff.
This is not a date, I remind myself. And yet, it’s starting to feel a lot like one.
Levi puts away the cleaning supplies, and we leave out the back door. He pulls out a helmet and hands it to me, not even asking if I’ll ride on his motorcycle.
I stare at it for a second, my fingers brushing the glossy black shell. He doesn’t coax or tease. Just waits, quiet and steady, like he already knows I’ll say yes.
Hesitation makes me pause before I take the helmet and slide it on. The strap clicks into place with finality.
If I’m going to do this, I might as well go the whole way. Rafe isn’t here to stop me. What could possibly happen?
I could have a wonderful time. Ooh. Big deal.
Levi swings his leg over the bike then looks back at me with a grin. “Now, be careful. I don’t want you to get addicted to this.”
“Addicted to the motorcycle or you?” I ask, already swinging my leg over.
He tosses me a look over his shoulder. “Yes.”
I cling to Levi as we roar down the quiet island streets, the wind tugging at my clothes. Tugging away words I’ll never say. By the time we pull up to my apartment, my pulse is still chasing the ride.
Levi kills the engine and looks back at me, lifting his helmet. “You haven’t fallen for me yet, have you?”
“Absolutely not,” I say, breathless.
He laughs, hopping off and pulling the helmet from my head. His fingers brush back my hair, and for a second, it’s hard to breathe for a completely different reason.
“You’ve got helmet hair,” he murmurs, tucking a stray strand behind my ear.
I retreat a step. “Give me five minutes. I promise to come back in appropriate bar attire.”
He grins. “You better. I’m taking you somewhere where linen has no business existing.”
I run up my steps and enter my apartment. I quickly change out of my work clothes, and I pull my hair from my bun. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. My hair flows as I run a brush through it a few times. The bun has left some unnatural waves in my hair, but I don’t hate it.
I step outside in a soft white T-shirt and my most comfortable jeans, the pair I wear when no one is looking. My hair is down, hanging down my back. I tug at the hem of the shirt as I shut the door, suddenly aware of how casual I look. I feel a little odd, but that’s the theme for this evening.
Levi turns around from where he’s straddling the bike and stops cold. His gaze sweeps over me once then returns to my face with something new in his expression. Not just attraction. Not just surprise.
Something closer to awe.
“Wow,” he says, low and reverent.
I lift an eyebrow as I descend the steps. “That bad?”
He gets off the bike, walking a slow circle around me, eyes dancing. “No, no. Not bad. I just… didn’t know you owned clothes that didn’t look like they came with a company laptop.”
I know that’s not true. He saw me in my SpongeBob T-shirt. I smack his shoulder, and he laughs, but there’s heat in his gaze that wasn’t there before.
“You look good, Amelia.”
I fold my arms to hide the way my stomach flips. It’s the first time he’s said my name, and it kills me a little inside because that’s not really my name. “It’s just jeans,” I say to hide my discomfort.
He steps closer. “It’s not just anything. It’s you. Comfortable. Real. A little dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” I echo. I’m about as far from dangerous as a person can get.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice dipping. “Because if you keep showing me this version of you, I might fall for you.”
For a second, the world tips sideways.
I swallow. “Then I better be careful.”
He grins like I’ve passed a test I didn’t know I was taking. “Too late for that.”