“Then what does it have to do with?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Her gaze briefly floated to my crotch. “Try me.” She inched closer, the kitchen seeming to crackle with tension.
“I was thinking about you,” I began in a low, seductive voice.
“What about me?”
I licked my lips, mouth suddenly growing dry. “About baking with you.”
“What else?” she urged.
I curved toward her, drawn to her in ways I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. “I was imagining you wearing nothing but a short apron and those heels you wore tonight.”
She paused, neither advancing nor retreating for several excruciatingly long moments as my confession hung in the air.
Then she pulled back. “I see.” Spinning from me, she grabbed the bowl of batter and proceeded to pour it into a couple of lined cake pans.
“Belle, I—”
“Now we just need to pop these into the oven for about thirty-five to forty minutes.”
I couldn’t help but sense she was purposefully avoiding my gaze. What was I thinking? Things had been going great between us. Better than great. How did I misread her so badly? I thought she’d lightened up, wouldn’t take my fantasy for anything more than it was. Strictly a fantasy. Not a request.
“I just need to use the bathroom before we start on the frosting,” she said shakily after closing the oven door. “Be right back.”
Without so much as a glance my way, she hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs, as if she couldn’t get away from me quickly enough.
I didn’t move until I heard the gentle sound of a door clicking closed. Then I expelled a long breath. Head hanging, I walked to the opposite side of the island and sat on one of the barstools, digging my fingers through my hair. I needed to find a way to take it all back, make it up to her, reassure her I wasn’t some creep who was only interested in one thing.
Granted, I usually was only interested in one thing, but only when willingly given.
With Belle, though, that wasn’t all I was interested in. I liked her as a person. Even if we spent the week together and never did more than we did tonight, I wouldn’t change a thing. Just being with her quieted the rest of the noise in my life.
Now I feared I fucked it all up.
Just as I was about to go find her to apologize, the sound of heels on the wood flooring echoed. I snapped my head up, waiting with bated breath as the clicking grew closer.
Then Belle appeared.
All the oxygen was ripped from my lungs as my gaze raked over her clad only in a tiny little apron.
And those hot-as-fuck heels.