Page 5 of Pretty Desperate (Pine Village #6)

KAMERON

R elief.

That’s what I feel the moment she agrees to my crazy idea.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my nose catching another whiff of those blondie bars she made. “Are they cool yet?”

Her eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“The blondies,” I state with a wink, standing up and heading over to where Jillian left them cooling on the counter.

I grab a large knife out of the block beside the stove, but before I can start slicing into the delicious smelling treats, Jillian is there. “Don’t you dare use that,” she says, carefully taking the knife from my hand and replacing it in the block.

I step back, but not because I want to. In fact, I rather enjoy being close to the adorable Jillian Kirby.

She smells like sugar, her dark hair hitting just below her shoulders.

It looks soft, and my fingers itch to slide through the strands.

Not to mention the pale green T-shirt she has on with a pair of leggings.

Leggings. A man’s Kryptonite. And hers look pretty fucking good too.

The black material hugs her round ass and thighs, begging for my palms.

She pulls open a drawer and removes a different type of knife. This looks like a hard plastic and cuts smoothly as she slices into the blondies. Using a small spatula, she removes two pieces and places each one on a small paper plate. “Here.”

I take the treat, anxious to dive in. “Only one?”

She rolls her eyes before returning to the table with her own plate. “You can have more if you like it.”

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” I ask, taking my seat across from her.

She lifts her shoulders, her focus on the dessert on her plate. I fully expect her to pick it up and take a bite, but that’s not what she does. I watch, mesmerized, as she scrutinizes the blondie with a very critical eye. I have no idea what she’s doing, but it’s fascinating to witness.

Finally, she lifts the treat and inhales.

It’s not a deep sniff, but she’s definitely taking in the aroma of her baked good.

Then, she leans forward and takes a small bite.

I mean a small bite. Like the type of bite a toddler would take if you were offering them broccoli.

It’s full of hesitation, but the moment the treat hits her tongue, her eyes light up.

She chews slowly, as if dissecting and cataloguing her work before she swallows.

Catching me watching her, she asks, “What?”

“You tell me.”

She glances down at her plate and realizes what I was referring to. “Oh. Sorry. This is a new recipe. If it’s good enough, I’ll add it to the bakery this fall.” Something flashes through her eyes. Clearly there’s more to it, but I don’t feel comfortable pushing.

Lifting my own blondie, I take a healthy bite, one much bigger than the dainty one she took. The flavors explode on my tongue in a delicious combination of salty and sweet. It’s still warm, the caramel gooey and rich, but not overly sweet. “These are great.”

She beams. “Thank you.”

I finish my first bar and grab another. As I sit down to enjoy more dessert, I ask, “We can iron out all the details soon, but is there anything we need to discuss right now?”

She considers my request and nods. “Actually, yes. I want this to stay between us. I don’t like the idea of lying to my friends and family, but I think we have to be consistent. It’ll be less likely people find out about the lie, you know?”

I dip my chin, completely understanding. “I agree. It’ll be between the two of us. No one else.”

A loud sigh fills the room, and she places her half-eaten treat back on the plate. “I really don’t like this,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “I hate the thought of lying to everyone, Kameron.”

“It’s temporary,” I assure her. “We’ll go public with our relationship after we meet with Mrs. Krokus next Sunday. That’s when the details of the sale will be discussed, and I’ll have a better idea of how long we have to keep this charade up.”

“We can’t just end it right after,” she says absently. “Everyone will know something is up.”

I get what she’s saying. “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll have to at least keep it up a couple of weeks after I close on the building.”

She doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, but I can tell she’s thinking.

Probably overthinking, if I had to guess.

Not that I blame her. I can’t imagine being in her shoes right now.

Hell, I don’t even like being in my own shoes.

But I feel up against the wall, and even though I don’t like it, I don’t have much of a choice.

“Next Sunday. Okay, so that gives us a week to, you know, figure this out.”

“We’ll keep it simple, Jilly. We both have demanding jobs, so we probably won’t even see each other much.”

She holds my gaze, those green eyes both assessing and understanding. “True. But won’t that be weird?”

I shrug, truly having no clue. It’s not like I date a lot to even know what constitutes weird or not.

My last girlfriend only lasted a few weeks because she got a job offer out of state.

With her impending move, and the fact there was no way I was going anywhere, we opted to cut ties and not force any long-distance relationship.

“You can swing by the restaurant for dinner, if you want. I usually just take a quick dinner break when it’s slower, but I could try to work it around your schedule.

And I’ll drop by the bakery in the mornings on my way in and grab a cup of coffee.

People will at least see us visiting each other’s place of business.

” She doesn’t mention the fact my restaurant doesn’t open until mid-afternoon weekdays, and the fact I go in between eight and nine every morning is reflective of my commitment.

Or of my obsession.

“Yeah, I think that will work.”

I push away from the table and stand up, enjoying the last few bites of my blondie before tossing my plate in her trash can.

When I meet her gaze, I offer an honest, “Thank you, Jillian. Truly. I appreciate what you’re doing for me, and I’m honored to work out a deal to purchase your desserts for the restaurant.

Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed I haven’t thought of it before now.

I’ve used the same company from St. Paul since I opened, or I whip something up myself.

I want to support another local business. ”

She stands and offers me a small smile, one that’s full of gratitude and makes her eyes shine brighter than emeralds. That one gesture reaches into my pants and caresses my balls.

What?

I mean, Jillian is beautiful, but I’ve never felt any strong pull toward her.

Yet, seeing her now, casually dressed in the middle of her kitchen while she perfects a recipe for her bakery has me all sorts of confused. Sure, I consider her a friend, but right now, I’m entertaining thoughts that aren’t exactly friendly, if you know what I mean.

“Here,” she states, walking over to the counter and placing several bars onto a paper plate. She wraps it with paper towel and hands it over. “I’d never be able to eat a whole batch by myself. Well, let’s just say I shouldn’t eat a whole batch by myself.” She giggles.

Giggles.

And my balls? They’re fucking aching with need.

“Thanks,” I reply, needing to turn away so she can’t see how the noises she makes affect me.

Jillian follows me to the door and before I can exit, she stops me. “One more thing.”

Turning around, I give her my complete attention. It’s when I notice a light blush creeps up her neck, staining her fair complexion with a pink hue. “Yes?”

“Umm, so what about…” her words trail off and she closes her eyes. “Gosh, this is embarrassing.”

I have a feeling I know where she’s going with this, but I wait her out, nonetheless.

“What about other relationship stuff?”

“Like?” I have to fight to keep my grin off my face.

“Like kissing and other shows of affection. I mean, if we’re in a relationship, people will have to believe it, right? We can’t just stand next to each other for a few months and assume everyone believes there’s chemistry.”

“You don’t think we have chemistry?” I ask, taking a slow step toward her.

She lifts her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she insists, throwing her hands up in the air. “Maybe? It’s hard to tell just standing here.”

“You’re right,” I agree, stepping into her personal space.

I slide my free hand around the back of her neck and hold on, letting my fingers slip into the silky strands of her dark hair.

Bending down, I press my lips to hers gently.

The softest gasp slides from her mouth as my tongue delves inside, tasting her for the first time.

I could easily deepen this kiss. This kiss is the preamble to something spectacular. I can feel it. But now isn’t the time. The last thing I’d want is to freak her out any more than I already have.

Pulling back, I open my eyes and stare at her lips, swollen from my kiss. “I’d say we’re fine on chemistry, Jilly.”

She clears her throat and opens her eyes to meet mine, seeming a bit dazed. “Oh, uh, yeah.”

I can’t stop a playful smirk from crossing my mouth as I stand tall and take my hand from her neck. I’m surprised I didn’t drop my blondies in my desire to explore our chemistry. “I’ll be in touch, Jilly.”

“Bye,” she murmurs, her eyes still glossy with lust.

I force my feet to move, walking out of her house and heading toward my SUV.

With each step I take, I feel her eyes follow.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

Taking that kiss into consideration, I’d like to think her thoughts are positive, but I did just ask her to lie to everyone she knows for a specific length of time and pretend to be my girlfriend.

She could easily tell me to get fucked.