Page 34 of Working For Her Sweet Treats

I repeat the test twice before she is satisfied.

“Three successful trials,” I tell her. “Do I receive approval?”

“For the latch.”

“Nothing else?”

Her eyes meet mine, and the color returns to her cheeks.

“You’re becoming overly confident.”

“I was locked in a cooler with a beautiful woman who kissed me. Confidence seems appropriate.”

“Go drink some coffee before your ego becomes unmanageable.”

“What happens now?” I ask.

“With the event?”

“With us.”

Her expression turns cautious. I do not want to push her. I also do not want us to pretend the kiss meant nothing simply because pretending would be easier.

Ava’s brown eyes search mine. “I don’t know.”

“That’s honest.”

“I’m trying something new.”

“We could start with dinner.”

“I have two hundred and twenty pastries to produce.”

“After the event.”

“That sounds suspiciously like planning ahead.”

“I own a construction company. Planning is encouraged.”

She considers me for a moment. “Ask me again after the event.”

It is not a yes. It is not a no, either.

“I will.”

Ava paces her bakery kitchen nervously.

“Anything else you need help with?” I ask.

She glances at me as though the question still surprises her. “The apple crates need to move closer to the prep table.”

I handle those next. For the following half hour, I do what Ava asks and nothing she does not. I shift supplies, flatten bakery boxes, and carry two trays to the cooler. She works beside me, measuring ingredients for tomorrow’s batches while music plays softly from a speaker near the sink.

It is strangely comfortable. No arguments or sharp looks. Only Ava moving through her kitchen and occasionally brushing against me. When the work is done, she places two muffins on the counter.

“One lemon-blueberry and one strawberry cream cheese,” she says. “Both are possibilities for the event.”

“You need another professional evaluation?”