Page 21 of Christmas in Quincy (The Edens 0.50)

Because heaven forbid Austin miss an opportunity to show me how much my very existence aggravated him.

Knox cleared his throat. Mateo stared at me with eyebrows raised.

“What? Oh.” Knox had asked me a question. Right. “Sorry, I’m hungover. I can’t leave because I’m in the middle of scones. And blueberry muffins. They’re in the oven.”

Knox’s eyes darted to said oven, then back to the scones I’d just rolled out. “We can’t serve those.”

“Good.” Mateo chuckled. “More for me. Can I take the extras home, Cleo?”

“Of course.”

Mateo yawned, then slapped his brother’s shoulder before tossing me a wink and leaving the kitchen.

“I don’t suppose you have any strawberries?” I asked Knox. “I make this amazing strawberry-graham galette with lime zest and it would totally hit the spot this morning.”

Knox blinked. Twice.

Austin did the same thing when I asked him questions. Strange.

“Is that a no on the strawberries? Or . . .”

That earned me another blink, but instead of the scowl that usually followed when Austin gaped at me, Knox grinned. “I’m not getting rid of you this morning, am I?”

I smiled. “Nope.”

“Where the fuck have you been?” Austin barked. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

My shoulders fell. “You found me.”

My trip to Montana was about over.

Austin ran a hand over his stubbled jaw, taking in the hotel’s kitchen as he shook his head. It was rare to see him disheveled. It was a good look though, a little messy and a lot sexy.

“Have you been here all morning?” he asked.

“Yes.” Baking. Hiding. Same thing.

It was ten thirty according to the clock on the wall. Had my security detail been anyone other than Austin, I might have made it until noon, but I’d figured eventually, he’d remember predicable Cleo was probably elbows deep in flour, yeast and sugar.

“Christ.” Austin shook his head. “I was worried.”

Whoops. I cringed, hating the guilt snaking down my spine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I was just hungry.”

Austin waved a hand around the kitchen. “And instead of finding a morning snack at a vending machine, you decided to bake enough muffins to feed the whole fucking town.”

“Not the whole town,” I mumbled. “Just the guests.” And employees.

Okay, maybe I’d gotten a bit carried away. The prep table was overloaded with cinnamon rolls and carrot cake muffins. The galette was cooling by the chocolate croissants. And I’d just taken a hot sheet pan of orange scones from the oven.

“You’re probably starving.” I swiped a plate from the shelf behind me and dished Austin a warm scone. He was a big guy so I added a muffin and a cinnamon roll too. Maybe the reason he never ate my food was because he wasn’t hungry. But Austin had hangry written all over his gorgeous face and if there was ever a moment for him to embrace all that was my baking, this was it. “Here.”

He frowned at the plate but took it from my grip, then he bit into the scone, chewed the bite for approximately a nanosecond before swallowing and setting the plate aside. “Coffee. To wash it down.”

Seriously? My food didn’t need to be washed down. My scones were the farthest thing from dry. Asshole. My temper surged. Maybe it was the champagne’s lingering effects, but I swiped up the towel off the table and threw it at his head.

He caught it before it could hit him in the face. “What the hell?”

“Everyone likes my food,” I snapped. “Everyone. Mateo went home already because his shift was over, but just ask Knox. People. Love. My. Food.”