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Sydney had a firm grip on Mackie’s leash when she knocked on Adam’s door. Mackie was generally good with other dogs, but there was a first time for everything, and she did not want this to be anything but a good experience. For Adam and for Sugarbelle.

Adam answered with a scowl on his face and his phone in his hand.

She glanced at the phone, then at him. “Everything okay?”

Frowning, he exhaled and shoved the phone into his back pocket. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Come on in.”

It didn’t look like nothing judging by his face, but she let it go. Wasn’t her business.

Sugarbelle was drinking from her new water bowl. Sydney turned so Mackie was facing his hopefully soon-to-be new friend. “Look, baby. That’s Sugarbelle. I want you to be sweet to her so you two can play together.”

She glanced at Adam. “You okay with me putting him down?”

“Yeah, go ahead. Anything goes wrong, I’ll grab her.”

“I won’t let go of his leash until I know everything’s cool.” She set Mackie on the floor and stayed there on his level in case she needed to reel him in quickly. Both dogs approached each other, tails wagging tentatively. Then the sniffing started.

Sydney straightened, leash still in her hand. She smiled. “I think they’re going to be all right.”

Adam finally took his eyes off Sugarbelle to look at her. He seemed less convinced. “You’re sure?”

“No, but this is all very good body language. The sniffing and the tail-wagging and?—”

Mackie let out a happy little bark. Sugarbelle answered with one of her own. Their tails were up, and they were in what Sydney thought of as happy-dog position.

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Let him loose.”

She unhooked Mackie’s leash.

As if sensing her new friend was free to play, Sugarbelle took off into the other room, and Mackie gave chase.

Sydney laughed. “Brace yourself. They’re probably going to get nutty. He has a lot of energy.”

“I’m sure she does, too.”

As if on cue, the pair ran back into the room, chased each other into the kitchen, then came back out, still giving little barks and playful growls as they skittered across the floor.

Adam snorted. “Oh, boy. But this is good. Hey, should we let them into the yard? There’s a lot more room out there.”

“Fine with me. Let them wear themselves out as much as possible.” She noticed all the pet store bags were sitting on the couch.

“On it.” He went to the back door and opened it. “Come on, Sugarbelle. Mackie, this way, boy. Outside, you hooligans.”

Soon the playful duo came running and were off down the steps. Adam propped the door open. He shrugged. “In case they want to come back in. I don’t mind it being open. It’s nice outside.”

He might have just adopted Sugarbelle, but he was easily one of the most indulgent dog parents she’d known. “Good to know you aren’t spoiling her.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“You’re fine. Just teasing.”

“Have you ever put a dog crate together before? I looked at the instructions. Might be easier with a second set of hands.”

“Happy to help. But first…” She rubbed her hands together. “Show me the dough.”

“Right this way.” He got a towel-covered bowl out of the bottom oven. He set it on the counter, then lifted the towel. The dough was level with the rim. “As you can see, it’s pretty well risen. That’s why I had it in there with the light on. The warmth from the bulb helps it rise.”

“If you say so. This is all new to me.”

“I can tell you it’s doubled in size, so that’s good.”

“So it’s ready for the next step? Shaping?” It was cool he knew about baking. Cool and unexpected.

“That’s right.”

“Before we do that, I should wash my hands.”

“I should, too, actually.”

They arrived at the sink together. He turned on the water, then after she’d gotten her hands wet, gave her the soap.

“Thanks.” She lathered up and handed it back to him, their hands briefly touching.

She swallowed, distracted by the contact, which sent a pleasurable shockwave through her.

Her breath seemed to snag on something in her throat.

She cleared it and made small talk to divert herself from so much man standing next to her.

“So, um, how did you get into making bread?”

He shrugged, which bumped his arm against hers. His arm was rock-hard. His enormous hands were busy making suds. “I like bread, but most of what you can buy is full of additives and stuff. I wanted something simple. Clean. So I decided to make it myself.”

“Can’t beat that.” She dried her hands on a nearby towel, then held it out to him, trying not to stare. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him before, but he was so close. And so big.

He finished rinsing and took it, drying his hands. “Most things are better when you make them yourself. At least I think so. It’s the only way you can control what goes into it.”

She nodded. “I totally agree with that. It’s why I started my cosmetics company.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “You had a cosmetics company?”

She hadn’t really meant to share that, but talking to him was so easy, she’d forgotten they hadn’t been friends forever and that he knew very little about her past. All that muscle was also a bit distracting. “I did. I sold it, though.”

“Why?”

She hesitated, choosing her words. “It was time for me to do something different with my life, and it was a good offer.”

She was sure she knew the next question. It was the same one Birdie had asked. He’d want to know how much she’d gotten. She held her breath, waiting.

He smiled. “Good for you. Ready to tackle some dough-shaping?”

She exhaled. “Yes, totally. Teach me your ways.”

He laughed. “It’s pretty easy. Let me prep a sheet pan.”

He got one out, covered it with a layer of brown parchment paper, then scattered a small handful of cornmeal over it.

“What’s the cornmeal for?”

“Personal preference, really. You don’t have to do that. It helps the dough not to stick, which it probably wouldn’t on the parchment anyway, but it also adds a nice texture to the bottom of the loaf.”

“Having had your bread, I can confirm that.”

“Thanks. Okay, let’s get this dough out.” He sprinkled flour onto the clean countertop, emptied the bowl, then used a metal scraper to divide the dough into two even sections. “Come around here and stand next to me so you can watch how I do this.”

She moved beside him, mindful of how close they were.

“First, you want to fold the dough in on itself.” He demonstrated. His big hands made the lump of dough seem more like a wad of chewing gum.

She nodded, doing her best to pay attention.

“You do it, too,” he said.

“Oh, right.” She’d been somewhat preoccupied by the muscles in his forearms. She took the second piece of dough and did as he had. Or as close as she could manage. “It’s sticky.”

He chuckled. “It’s dough. If you’re a little gentler with it, it won’t stick to your hands as much. You can rub some flour on them, too.”

The idea that he was gentle enough with the dough that it didn’t stick to him gave her something to think about. She took a bit of flour from the counter and rubbed it in her hands.

“Now, we fold again, but this time pulling it out from the sides.”

She mimicked his actions, really paying attention this time. “Kind of like folding an envelope.”

“It is. And we keep doing it until eventually we have our loaf.” He repeated the folding and pulling and folding again.

When they were finished and the loaves were side by side, it wasn’t hard to see which one of them had never done it before.

“Yours is a lot nicer,” she said, slightly miffed at her lopsided result. “It looks professional.”

“It’s like anything. It takes practice.” He used the scraper to lift the two loaves and put them next to each other on the sheet pan. Next, he pulled out a razor blade from another drawer.

She glanced at it. “What’s that for?”

“We have to score the tops.”

Behind him, the oven beeped.

“Oven’s ready,” he said. “As soon as these are scored, they can go in.”

“You do yours first so I can watch,” she said.

Holding the razor at an angle, he slashed marks across the top of the loaf diagonally. “Some people get fancy and make patterns or draw designs. This bread is just going to be sandwiches or toast, so I don’t bother. I’m not exactly artistic, anyway.”

“I don’t know, baking seems like an art form to me.”

He held out the razor, the sharp edge away from her. She took it and made cuts the same way he had.

“Perfect. Now into the oven.” He picked up the pan, opened the oven door, letting out a waft of heat, and slid the pan in.

“How long?” she asked.

“Twenty-five to thirty minutes.”

“Oh, not long at all.” She smiled. “For some reason, I thought it was going to be hours.”

“Nope, they bake pretty quick. Are you hungry? I am. I never did eat.”

“Neither did I.”

“I could make some lunch.”

Now he was offering to cook for her? He was almost too good to be true. “I don’t want to be an imposition.”

“No imposition at all. I was going to cook for myself anyway. Making enough for two is no problem. Besides, you helped me with shopping for Sugarbelle today. And you’re going to help me put her crate together next, right?”

Sydney nodded, smiling. “You bet. Lunch would be great.”

He seemed pleased. “Are you allergic to anything, or is there anything you hate or?—”

“I like everything .”

“I was planning on making a stir-fry, if that’s all right.”

“Yeah, absolutely. Do you need help with anything?” Her kitchen skills weren’t much to offer, but she could at least help.

“Could you check on the dogs? I haven’t heard much from them.”

“Good thinking. I’ll be right back with a report.” She went out to have a look. It took her a second to find them, then she smiled. She went back in. “Adam? I think you should come see this.”

With a slight look of concern, he went to the back door. A chuckle shook him. “Will you look at that.”

She stood next to him, her shoulder just grazing his arm. “Is that not the cutest thing?”

The two dogs were lying in the grass next to each other, sleeping in the sun. They looked like they’d been best friends since the beginning of time.

Adam looked at her. “I think we can safely say there are no issues with them getting along.”

“They look like best friends.”

“I’m glad you brought him over.

She looked up at him, into his eyes. They were dark gray with flecks of silver. Mesmerizing up close. She gave a little nod. “So am I.”

He stared at her a moment longer. The light in his gaze changed. It was as if he had suddenly realized he wanted something.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had no desire to look away, but she didn’t think she could have even if she’d tried. She felt drawn to him. And very much like she wanted something, too.

He leaned in and kissed her.