What is it about a missed opportunity for romance that, in retrospect, makes a man so much more attractive?

Lily was wondering that very thing while she worked in the back of at Wilde’s Bakery, carefully frosting some petit fours. She wasn’t thinking of anyone in particular, but Cade Moore was in the back her head. Cade was always in the back of her head, though.

“Your petit fours are looking much better.”

Lily looked up and smiled at Jean-Michel as she finished icing one of the Christmas-themed creations.

“Thanks,” she said. Lily had been at Wilde’s Bakery in historic Salem since finishing the patisserie course at Le Cordon Bleu in Portland last year. “I think maybe I’ve finally mastered these little beasts.”

“Mastered? No,” Jean-Michel said in his thick Parisian accent. “Made acceptable for the sale section, maybe.”

“Wow, thanks, boss,” she said with an eye roll.

“Is a compliment,” he said as he swapped out the register beside her. “You know how many pastry chefs with a bachelor’s in chemistry I hire?”

“Zero. I know, I know,” she said as she slid the tray into the display case. “And you know I don’t agree with that. What is baking but based in science, anyway?”

“Baking is art, mon canard,” he said. “Remember that.”

“Right. So, can I do macarons today?”

“No,” he said bluntly. “You practice enough today. Back to counter work up front.”

“But, Jean-Michel—”

“Your last macarons, they were too dry. Tomorrow, maybe, I show you more and you try again.”

“Alright,” she said, defeated.

“By the way, you find out more about the… how you say, graphic-y?”

“Graffiti,” she corrected. “And, no. I talked to the police again, but they think it’s just kids.”

“Just kids,” Jean-Michel repeated. “Why they graphic my bakery? Who they think is going to pay for that?”

“Maybe you should just stop covering it up then,” Lily said as she snuck one of the macarons Jean-Michel had created that morning into her mouth. “I mean, you can’t even tell what it says anyway.”

“Is French. Or supposed to be,” he said.

“Yeah? And what does that last thing they wrote mean?”

“Stop eating. You want to keep French woman waistline or no?”

“Fine,” she said as she tried to covertly run a hand along her trim waist. “But only if you tell me what it means.”

“Bâtard Français. French Bastard. Of course, they spell it wrong,” he said with a huff. “Right, French bastard. Those kids probably the ones without parents, running wild in the streets—sorry,” he said quickly. “Pardon, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.

Lily hated how everyone walked on eggshells around her. She barely remembered her mom. Lily had been six when she’d died in that car accident. But her dad’s death six months ago, that still hurt, of course. Even as Jean-Michel apologized, she felt the sting in her eyes.

What did you expect? He had one of the most dangerous jobs there is.

“Really, it’s fine,” she said and forced a smile. “You didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“You watch the front,” he repeated. “I need to finish the cake for the ridiculous wedding. Can you believe it? Naked icing, is the most ridiculous trend…”

She smiled as she listened to Jean-Michel tick off the woes of modern-day wedding cakes in the back. She slipped out into the front, dusting off her jeans.

“Hey, Lil.”

Lily looked up at Elijah’s voice, complemented by the gentle chime of the front door. EJ, as they called her brother, tipped his hat to her.

“Hi. Nice shirt,” she said with a wry smile.

“This old thing?” He pulled at the taut new shirt advertising the firehouse’s latest fundraiser.

“Yeah. Totally subtle. No girl will fail to realize you are a firefighter, for sure,” she said.

“Finally, something to help drop the panties of this town. Not that I really had any problem before, of course…”

“Ew, would you stop?” Lily asked with a fake shudder. “Your sister’s here, you know.”

“I’ll stop for now, but only because you hook me up,” EJ said. “Can I get the usual?”

“I’m way ahead of you.” Lily started to pour dark roast into large canisters while arranging eclairs in Jean-Michel’s trademark pink boxes. “You know, with how much of these pastries you guys eat, you’re all going to have to double down at the gym to work this off.”

“Do I look like I need extra gym sessions?” EJ asked. “Feel these,” he said and flexed his arm.

“Thanks, I’ll pass.”

The door chimed again, and Lily plastered on her customer smile. Cade strolled in with his matching firehouse shirt and Lily felt the heat rush to her face.

He was the same as ever, big and strong and muscular all over. He still had the broad chest and narrow hips of an athlete, and he was still covered in tattoos, the whorls of ink covering both of his arms to the wrist.

She bit her lip. And you just happen to know exactly what those tattoos look like up close…

Fuck, Lily thought as her heart began to hammer. She hadn’t seen him, not really, in what? Three years, she told herself. As if she needed to think about it. It’s been almost three years since that day…

“Hey! Lily! Watch it,” EJ said. He reached across the counter to pull her hand away from the coffee pour.

“I wasn’t going to spill it!” she hissed. “God, Elijah James. You’re such a drama queen.”

She straightened her apron and fumbled with the to-go box.

“Yeah, Elijah James, such a drama queen,” Cade said as he approached the counter. “Hey, Lily.”

“Hi.” She panicked with what to say next, but luckily EJ and his big mouth took over.

“Cade! I thought you wouldn’t be here until Monday, dude,” EJ said.

Cade shrugged. “Things change.”

“Glad to have you back, man,” EJ said as he clapped Cade on the shoulder. “Damn, we haven’t been on crew together in forever.”

“Hey, Lil? Can I get a large latte?” he asked. Her name on his full lips sent a shiver down her spine.

“I, uh. Yeah, right away. Large latte,” she repeated, all business.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly. It was like looking at the sun. In the past couple of years, ever since that day, they’d rarely seen each other.

Almost immediately after it happened, Cade had accepted a post in Montana.

She hated to admit it, but that had broken her heart. It was part of the reason she’d jumped on the offer at the culinary school.

Now, he’d lost all his boyishness, save for that grin she remembered obsessing over since she was a kid.

Not that he wasn’t hot before, but damn, she thought to herself. What are they putting in the water out in Montana?

He was bronzed, a rarity in Oregon. It contrasted perfectly with his chestnut hair, kept clipped close. The perpetual five o’clock shadow was a harsh reminder of the burn he’d left on her neck, her lips, nearly three years ago.

Because like it or not, his searing touch had changed her…

But that was then. This was now. Lily straightened her spine and blatantly ogled Cade in the reflection of the espresso machine’s steel body.

He put on some serious muscle, she thought. She’d sworn to herself that the next time she saw him, if she ever did, all traces of her crush would be gone.

I should just be grateful I gave my virginity to someone I’d always wanted, she thought.

But now, seeing him like this? All those feelings rushed back.

“You look good, dude,” EJ said as he sized up his brother-from-another-mother. “Healthy. Sorry about what happened with your old company, though—”

“It’s fine,” Cade said, too quickly. All of them stood in uncomfortable silence, unable to gauge where the sudden attitude change came from.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place to get an energy jolt before hitting up the station,” EJ said. “Lily pours the best in town.”

Both of them turned to stare at her as she poured the steamed milk on top of the medium roast. She froze when his eyes caught hers.

Am I imagining this? she thought. In those familiar hazel eyes, she saw nothing but raw animal desire.

“You, uh … you did something different with your hair,” Cade said to her.

She touched her shorn locks, embarrassed. “Yeah, I, uh, I cut it off.”

“I can see that,” Cade said.

“Calls it a pixie,” EJ said with a wrinkle of his nose. “I call it the look of a prepubescent boy.”

“EJ!” she exclaimed, embarrassed.

She felt another rush of heat in her face and was suddenly desperate for long strands to cover it.

The last time he saw me, I had hair nearly to my butt, she remembered. God, Lily. What a time to go for a dramatic new look—

“I think it looks good,” Cade said.

“You do?” Lily and EJ asked at the same time.

“Yeah. Like, Audrey Hepburn or something. Actually, you look a bit like her,” Cade said as he cocked his head to the side.

“I do?” she asked.

Part of her body was on autopilot and she reached out the latte to him. His fingers brushed against hers as he took it. Fireworks seemed to explode from between them.

“Yeah. I never noticed it before.”

“Audrey Hepburn before her makeover in Sabrina, maybe,” EJ said as he backed up slightly to take in the interaction.

“EJ, the fact that you even said that is so much worse than the so-called insult you’re trying to hurl,” Cade said. “What kind of firefighter knows all of Audrey Hepburn’s looks?”

“Would you shut up?” EJ asked.

While the guys bickered, Lily couldn’t stop remembering the last time she’d been with Cade. It was the same day her breakup with her college boyfriend. The way Cade had looked at her in his shorts and t-shirt in the apartment he’d shared with EJ, the only dry option after her own clothes were soaked in the downpour.

It was the same look he’s giving me right now, she thought. And then on the couch, the way he’d kissed her. Or I kissed him…

How he’d pulled her onto his lap, kissed her neck. How she’d ached for him, and the feeling when he ripped her panties apart and lowered her onto his cock—

And then he was gone, she reminded herself. She’d woken up the next morning alone and naked on the couch. What a freaking great way to lose your V-card.

After that, she’d barely seen him, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. Until now. For the most part, she’d hardly thought of him, eager to push that memory into the past.

But now? Now he’s back.

“ … open single-handedly,” EJ said. “Right, Lil?”

“Sorry, what?” Lily asked.

“God, Lily, where are you today? I was telling Cade how the firehouse is basically bankrolling the bakery with how much we spend here. We’re lucky our baby sister is running the show around here.”

“You run this place?” Cade asked, impressed.

“Um, well, Jean-Michel owns it—”

“You call me?” Jean-Michel asked as he poked his head out of the back. A dusting of flour covered his face, and his eyes lit up when he saw the crowd. “Ah, firemen! Back again. You boys must keep energy high to save all those kittens in the trees.”

“That’s not what we—” EJ started, but Cade elbowed him.

“Lily, you hurry with these boys. They have busy, important work. And I need help with cupcake icing back here. At least cupcakes, they are never naked…” he started as he let the door swing shut.

“Naked cupcakes, huh?” Cade asked with a grin. Lily flushed and looked down as she shoved the box of eclairs across the counter.

EJ slapped two twenties on the counter.

“Bye, Lily Flower!” he called. She stiffened at the nickname, what their dad had called her in childhood.

She watched them through the windows as they joked and walked toward the fire house.

I can’t believe Cade’s back. Or that he’s somehow even hotter.

“Lily, come!” Jean-Michel called. “The cupcakes, they do not, how you say, ice by themselves.”

“Ice themselves,” she said as she walked into the back.

“That’s what I say. Who is the new one?”

“Huh?” she asked as she picked up the pastry bag.

“The new fireman.” Jean-Michel stared intently at his own cupcake.

“Oh. Sorry, you’re out of luck, Jean-Michel. He’s straight.”

“That is not why I ask,” he said. “What you think I am? A whore-man?”

“Manwhore,” she said with a laugh. “And no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Straight, you say. All Americans think they are straight.” He raised a brow. “You are interested then?”

She frowned at her perfect pink cupcake. “No. He’s EJ’s best friend. And I already have two very overprotective big brothers, so he’s super off-limits.”

“And the floodgates open,” Jean-Michel said. “You have many excuses.”

She sighed. “I had a huge crush on him back in the day, okay? But I would never act on it. I know he’s not interested. And besides, he’s kind of a slut. My brothers had a nickname for him. They called him the Morningside Manwhore, actually, because he left so many broken hearts scattered all over the Morningside neighborhood. So sorry, even though you’re not a manwhore, that title’s already taken.”

“That’s not a ‘not interested.’ That is reason why you should not be interested,” Jean-Michel said. “Difference, there.”

“Aren’t you French supposed to be all about free love or something?” she demurred.

“Free love?” Jean-Michel laughed. “Love is never free. Sex, on the other hand. Sometimes free. Sometimes very pricey.”

Lily rolled her eyes and went to work icing the cupcakes. That didn’t stop her from wondering about Cade, though…

What had he been up to the past three years?

And how in the hell was he hotter than he’d ever been?