“Do they?”
I swallow over the lump lodged in my throat and try to ignore the sudden acceleration of my pulse. Zane doesn’t like dating or long term or . . . he just said all of that in so many terms, so why is my heart beating like I want him to want me?
Keep it light, Low.
“I have horrible taste in men.”
“Should I be offended?” he laughs.
“That’s not what I mean,” I say and then realize it is what I mean. “Let me preface that by saying it is what I mean.” A nervous laugh on my part. A shift of my eyes back to the balloons still dotting the sky.
“So I take it you haven’t found your Prince Charming yet?” His smile curls up one corner of his lips.
“My mom thinks every man has a little of both in them.”
“And you? What do you think?”
“I think I pick the men who look good, who have some swagger, but in the end love themselves more than they’ll ever let themselves love someone else. Even with my mom’s mistakes to watch, I still fall for them. Hard. And by the time I realize it’s too late to get my heart back unscathed, they leave and it’s broken.”
“Fucking love,” he says and laughs.
“Doesn’t everything come back to it at one point or another?” I ask.
“You don’t know the half of it.” He half laughs, half sighs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?
Zane looks at me for a moment, his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted as if he wants to say more, but then shakes his head. “Just a guy comment.” He shrugs and then presses a chaste kiss to my lips. “Should we head back?”
“Do we have to?” I laugh. “It’s so peaceful up here. No cell phones. No bus. No—”
“No Robert.”
“No Robert.” I chuckle. “I’m afraid to see what is in store for us at our next destination.”
“Don’t remind me,” he groans, standing up and pulling me up to my feet by my hands.
“Always an adventure.”
He links his fingers with mine and swings them. “Always.”
We hike back down the trail, talking the whole time about this or that—simple things we’ve never really discussed despite the fact that we’re living together. The whole time though, I keep thinking how I’ve had a smile on my face this entire time. How this one little unexpected jaunt made me realize that sometimes first impressions deserve a second look.
Especially when it comes to Zane.
“THAT WASN’T SO BAD.”
Zane looks up at me from where he stands. He has flour dusted on one cheek, his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and he’s licking frosting from the bowl with his other.
“Not bad no. Baking together I can get behind.”
“You just like the eating after part.”
“Who wouldn’t?” he laughs and takes another lick. “Plus, you in heels and an apron looking all domestic was—”
“Equivalent to you looking all domestic.” I quirk an eyebrow.
He laughs. “I swore there was going to be a catch to it. Like weird ingredients or no recipes or something to challenge us.”
“Cooking blindfolded.”
He laughs. “That or cooking naked.” He quirks a brow and that slow slide of a smile on his lips and the dip of his eyes down my body and back up says exactly what he’s thinking of.
“There’s always that, but then I think of accidental burns on places that don’t need to be burned.”
Zane hisses and then laughs. “It sounds sexier than it would be. Let’s be grateful that wasn’t our challenge today.”
“Thank God, no.” But there was warm breath on the back of my neck. Soft kisses on my bare shoulder. Low groans when I’d bend over to check on the cupcakes in the oven.
All the things I’ve been trying to remind myself on a daily—no hourly—basis that are part of the gig. Act like a couple when you’re not a couple. And yet, I couldn’t prevent my mind from going there. From wondering if this is how it would be if Zane ever decided there could be more after this whole tour was over.
More?
Oh, Low. You’re losing the battle aren’t you?
This is not supposed to be happening.
“It may have been an easy day, but mixed with the seven other adventures we’ve taken this week, I’m fucking exhausted.” He leans his hips against the counter, and I love that he holds the bowl against his stomach as he takes another unabashed lick just like a little boy would.
There’s something extremely sexy about the sight so I stare a little longer than I normally would.
“Have there really been seven?” I lean back in my chair and yawn as I slip my feet out of my heels and put them up on the table in front of me. Yes, it’s a kitchen area and my feet should be on the floor, but hell if my toes aren’t screaming for some relief.
“Let’s see, there was the ropes test course.”
“Who could forget good ‘ol Tucker,” I murmur and know the button I pushed was the right one when his eyes harden and eyebrows raise.
“Good ‘ol Tuck who was putting me through the ringer so we’d break up from our fake relationship and he could hit on you.”
“Whatever.” I laugh but love that he was jealous and admitted it.