CHAPTER TEN
Bee
cheeks flamed. Just having him back here in this little kitchen in his crisp white shirt made everything around me seem a dull in comparison. His fancy restaurant next door overshadowed my homey little bakery by a long shot. "You don't have to worry about it," I told him, ducking my head, "I was just kidding."
When I lifted my gaze, he was cocking his head to the side, giving me a glance that told me he knew far too much about me, or thought he did anyway. "I always keep my word," he said.
Was he flirting? I thought he might be flirting. But then again, I probably also should be skeeved out by the fact that I was here alone with him. Once again, I found myself realizing that I actually had no idea how to handle men, much less men that looked like him. All the experience I had was with Zach, and I could pack that into something the size of my little finger.
That was a problem. It really was the size of my little finger.
I suppressed my snort, and looked back up at him. "I don't actually need more cupcakes, that batch was extra," I told him. "But you can help me with the last rack of dinner rolls for my delivery."
He grinned, rolling up his sleeves. "Need me to knead?" he asked.
I couldn't help but glance at his forearms, seeing that under that crisp button-down shirt, he had the ropey, defined muscles of someone who knew how to work with his hands. "I have a machine that does that," I said, feeling my throat grow dry.
"Too bad," he sighed. I silently agreed with him.
"You can measure into here," I told him, patting my bread machine.
He nodded. "Good, I follow directions well," he said, shooting me a grin.
"I highly doubt that."
He licked his lips. They were very full for a guy, and when he grinned at me, his smile was slightly lopsided. "All you have to do is tell me what you want me to do."
Was he flirting now? Was that definitely flirting? It had to be flirting.
Or maybe he was teasing me. Sometimes when Zach teased me, he said it was because I was so cute. But it always made me feel so small instead.
But Jackson wasn't doing that. He was reading my recipe very carefully, and leveling off his measurements very precisely. I found myself staring, as he measured it out, much more carefully than my usual eyeball and dump strategy.
He turned his head and caught me staring and I snapped out of it. "I open in fifteen minutes," I told him.
"I don't think I've ever been your customer," he remarked.
"That's okay," I told him. "I've never been to your restaurant."
He grinned ruefully. "That's because it isn't open yet. I don't have that excuse."
"I'm the only one open on the block," I reminded him, feeling a little cheeky. I glanced up at him. His eyes were kind, soft, but sharp and intelligent at the same time. There was a light that danced behind them, even though I could see the dark shadows from working most of the night.
I shook my head. "Shit, I need to set up the tables," I said, silently cursing myself for being so absent-minded. Was this what I got like when I was around attractive guys? I sort of hated myself right now.
"I've got it," Jackson said. He helped me pull the chairs down from where I had set them upside down on the tables the day before. "You got everything?" he asked me.
I nodded. And he reached over, and switched the sign in the door over from Closed to Open.
The bell over the door rang almost instantly, and in loped the last person I thought I was going to see.
And apparently last person Jackson thought he would see either. When he walked in, it was like all the air went out of the room as he looked from Jackson to me and back to Jackson.
"Hello," Finn said.
My stomach dropped down to my toes. I looked from Finn, back to Jackson, feeling for some strange reason like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Or...like I was cheating or something.
But that was ludicrous, right? I had only just met these guys. These incredibly handsome, incredibly aggravating, yet strangely sweet guys who'd cleaned the graffiti off my shop unasked. And how had I reacted when Finn told me that? By getting all pissy and possessive for no reason other than I felt I had something to prove.
I looked at Finn and smiled, hoping like hell he'd forgotten what I bitch I'd been. "Can I help you?" I asked, in my best sunny-hostess voice.
But Finn wasn't paying attention to me. He was looking at Jackson with the strangest expression on his face. There was electricity in the air, I could feel it. It raised the hairs on the back of my neck. This kind of current... I'd never felt it before, but there was something in me... the same dark, dangerous part of me where my fearsome temper resided, that welcomed it. I grinned, feeling like the devil my mother had always warned me about was whispering in my ear. "Why don't you boys sit down?" I heard myself say. "I'll get you some breakfast."