Page 33 of Working For Her Sweet Treats

“Nothing?”

“You still have to ask before repairing the latch.”

His slow smile appears.

“What if I ask now?”

I look back at the open cooler door, then at the man who just kissed every reasonable thought out of my head.

“Yes,” I say. “You may fix the latch.”

Jake takes his tool bag from the counter. I watch him return to the cooler and kneel beside the mechanism. This time, his help does not feel like a man taking over. It feels like I chose it. The kiss, too.

Chapter 8

Jake

Fixing the cooler latch should take less than fifteen minutes. It takes thirty because Ava remains close enough to distract me. Her hair is mussed from my hands, her cheeks are flushed, and every time I look at her mouth, I remember exactly how it felt beneath mine. All of this is probably why I drop the same screw twice.

Ava notices the second time. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I did before you kissed me.”

“I kissed you?” she says, smiling.

“That’s how I remember it.”

“I recall a mutual lapse in judgment caused by dangerously low temperatures.”

“The cooler is forty degrees.”

“Practically arctic, Jake.”

I retrieve the screw and focus on the latch. “You weren’t complaining about the temperature five minutes ago.”

“That was before Loralee opened the door holding a tarot card.”

From the front of the bakery, Loralee calls, “It was the Two of Cups.”

Ava closes her eyes. “How does she hear everything?”

“The universe,” Jake replies with a smirk.

“Don’t encourage her.”

I reinforce the mounting plate before tightening everything into place. When I finish, I step into the cooler and close the door.

Ava grabs the edge before it latches. “What are you doing?”

“Testing it.”

“From inside? You could get trapped again.”

“I’ve rigged an emergency button.”

Ava lets the door close. I press the release. The latch opens smoothly, and the door swings outward. Ava is waiting on the other side.

“Again,” she says.