Tara tossed and turned all night, sleeping fitfully and dreaming of brownies. She woke up groggy and cranky the next morning, not at all certain what she was feeling.
Her phone chimed when she stepped out of her bathroom, wringing her hair with a towel. She adjusted the towel around her and checked to see who it was.
SETH: If you tell me you slept like a baby, I’m gonna have to take you down.
She laughed, her crankiness immediately relaxing its hold on her.
TARA: Let’s just say I woke up craving brownies.
SETH: That brownie was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.
Heat flared to life in her vagina, and Tara checked to see if her towel had caught on fire. No arson attempt had been made on her person.
TARA: Are you in bed?
SETH: Yes.
She squeezed her thighs together.
TARA: Lazy. It’s past eight. Get up.
SETH: Like I implied, I didn’t fall asleep until four in the morning.
TARA: What are you wearing?
SETH: I thought you wanted me to get up?
TARA: I do. Get out of bed and tell me what you’re wearing.
SETH: I don’t wear anything to bed.
She needed another shower. A cold shower.
TARA: So you’re naked? Right now?
SETH: Yes.
Why was she torturing herself like this?
SETH: Hello?
TARA: I’m here.
SETH: Your turn.
TARA: My turn what?
SETH: Tell me what you’re wearing.
It was time to torture him a little.
TARA: A towel.
SETH: Is it a small towel? A tiny hand towel?
TARA: Oh, for heaven’s sake. It’s off. Happy now?
SETH: Fucking hell.
Delight raced across her bare skin. It felt so fantastic to be wanted by him.
TARA: Okay. I need to get dressed, and go to the brewery. Have a good rest of the morning.
The ellipses flickered and stopped. Flickered and stopped.
SETH: You, too.
Tara stepped out of her house with a smile on her face, and it stayed with her as she sped to work on her bike. She was going in early to start a new batch of ale. She’d always loved this part of her job, but sexting with Seth first thing in the morning added to her excellent mood.
Alex was already at the back, pouring the grist bill for their India Pale Ale into the mash tun.
“Hello, brother dear,” she said with a wide smile on her face. “Let me get geared up and join you.”
“Please do.” He shook the bag over the tun, emptying out the last bit, then turned around to pin her with a quizzical look. “Why are you so chipper today? You’re practically glowing.”
“Because it’s our brewing fun day,” she replied, dialing back some of her cheer. She glanced sideways at Alex as she pulled on her rubber boots. She lived and worked with her brothers. They were way too attuned to her moods. Worse yet, they could always sniff out her bullshit.
“Sampling day is your über-happy day. You’re disproportionately cheerful for brewing day.”
“What? Are you telling me to dial down my happiness?” Tara conjured an exaggerated injured look. “What kind of brother are you?”
“Sorry.” Alex eyed her suspiciously but didn’t continue his line of inquiry. “Be sampling day happy on brewing day. It’s a free country.”
She’d always been able to separate her dating life from her real life, but thoughts of Seth were crossing the line. His sweet, considerate side had punched a hole through her armor. What happened to the superficial playboy she’d signed up to date? And that kiss. After only one date, he was getting under her skin. Had she underestimated the effect he could have on her?
“Which grains should I bring?” she asked, scattering her inconvenient thoughts.
“The base malt is already in. We just need to mix our specialty malt.”
“Well, this one’s your recipe, so take the lead. I’ll assist.” They usually helped each other on brewing days—an extra pair of hands were always welcome—but the main brewer of the particular batch manned the helm. “Speaking of assisting, where’s Jack?”
“It’s accounting ‘fun’ day for him,” Alex said, cringing in distaste. “I can’t get used to how much he enjoys that part of the business.”
“If it weren’t for him, the brewery wouldn’t be what it is today.” Tara automatically defended Jack. “We’re lucky to have his brilliant business mind on our side.”
“I know that. But the word ‘number’…” Alex shivered dramatically.
“Was derived from the word ‘numb,’ meaning the bringer of numbness,” she rattled off in monotone. “And we must avoid brain numbness at all costs.”
“You got it.” He beamed at her like she was his star pupil. “Let’s get on with the real fun part of the business.”
They filled the mash tun with various bags of malt, working in companionable silence. And her mind wandered predictably to Seth. I wonder what he’s doing right now. He couldn’t possibly still be naked. But he was in her mind. He was taking photos naked. Building Landon’s website naked. And having lunch naked.
Tara was in trouble. She was troubled. How could she be working with her older brother in the sacred duty of brewing while unsanitarily daydreaming about naked men? Well, in her defense, it was only one man.
Once the mash was lautering, she and Alex took a lunch break. While they ate their roast beef sandwiches on pretzel rolls—the spicy mustard gave it the perfect amount of zing—Tara fidgeted with her phone, turning on the screen every twenty seconds.
“Now you look all sullen. Brewing day really isn’t as fun as sampling day, is it?” Alex said affectionately.
“It’s not that. I … promised Aubrey that I’d help Seth with building Landon’s restaurant website.” Where the hell did that come from? And why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? It gave her the perfect excuse to spend more time with Seth. “But we’ve been so busy lately, I feel like I’ve been neglecting my duties.”
“I can handle the rest of the brewing if you want to go work on that until the pub opens.”
“Really? That would be so great.” Tara squished two bites’ worth of sandwich into her mouth and washed it down with some root beer. “Thanks, Alex. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“And there she goes like the wind,” he said wryly.
She was full of shit. No one had asked her to help with the website, obviously. It was just an excuse to see Seth sooner than later. She didn’t question why she wanted to see Seth badly enough to fabricate an excuse to do it. Their date had been fun, and she wanted more of it. Girls just wanna have fun and all that. No big deal.
It was just about one o’clock, and she pedaled her bike to Comfort Zone and parked it outside. Why was she so excited? It wasn’t like her excuse allowed her to see Seth immediately. She needed some coffee and sweets to fuel her brain. She had to plan how she could offer Seth her help without seeming like she was desperate to spend more time with him. She walked into the busy bakery and seated herself at the counter. Justine and Lily were both in the back, but the new part-timer recognized her.
“Hi, Tara,” she said brightly. “What can I get for you?”
“Can I just get a cup of Americano for now?” she asked, her thoughts elsewhere.
“Sure thing.”
She took a big breath and pulled her cell out, but after a moment’s hesitation, she put it down on the counter. She couldn’t just text him. He didn’t need to know how much she wanted to see him.
She stared down at her phone for a long while, both excited and uneasy about luring Seth out. There was a desperation there she remembered. The last person she’d felt that way about was her college boyfriend. Even though she’d seen Jason the day before, the hours had seemed to stretch miserably long until she’d gotten to see him again. Her heart had ached just like it did now as she waited for the next time she met Seth.
It was unacceptable for her to feel that way about him. About any man. Tara had learned her lesson the hard way about what lay that way. Such emotional vulnerability could open her up to the kind of hurt she never wanted to endure again. But this was different. She made a conscious effort to draw her shoulders away from her ears. There was no need to panic. No harm could come of her seeing Seth. He was flying off to Paris in less than four weeks. Things couldn’t possibly lead to a toxic relationship. She wouldn’t let it.
The dating dare was all about fun and forgetting her woes. Seth had a way of making her feel seen, respected, and valued. The hollowness that had been eating away at her since Aubrey’s wedding was receding, and she felt far less alone thanks to his entertaining ways. She simply enjoyed spending time with him. That was all. Nothing more.
“Tara, when did you come in?” Justine walked out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a pristine white towel that she tucked into her apron once she finished. “Why didn’t you come back to say hi?”
“Oh, I knew you guys were busy with your afternoon bake. I didn’t want to distract you.” Tara got off her stool and went around to give Comfort Zone’s sous-chef a big hug.
“Well, you’re always welcome in the kitchen whether or not Aubrey is here. I miss her already, and it’ll help if you came in to chat with us. Lily still barely talks.” Justine laughed. “She would rather scowl or roll her eyes at my attempts at jokes.”
“She probably misses Aubrey, too.” Tara missed her best friend like a toddler missed her binky. “Why don’t you stop by the brewery tonight. We can catch up.”
“I’d love to.” The lovely baker’s smile widened. “Can I get anything for you?”
The salted caramel brownie was the first dessert to pop into Tara’s mind, and she blushed furiously. No. She wasn’t going to order that, or else she would be daydreaming about their kiss for as long as the taste of the brownies stayed in her mouth. She needed to plan, not daydream. “I’ll have two … no, three … cherry-almond cookies.”
“I have a fresh batch coming out in five minutes. I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.” Justine winked at her.
“Ooh.” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “I’m going to snag that corner booth.”
Just then the part-timer returned with a steaming mug of Americano and Tara carried it with her to the cozy diner-style booth. She planned on hunkering down for a while to iron out her plan, and the booth was much more comfortable. Her eyes slid shut with her first sip of coffee. The warm aromatic brew wrapped her in a comforting hug.
“Tara.” Seth’s voice appeared from somewhere over her head. Was she imagining things now? She slowly turned to find a tall gorgeous man with windswept hair standing by her booth, grinning at her as though she was a surprise birthday present. “This must be my lucky day.”
“What are you doing here?” Her heart squeezed tightly as though the burst of joy at seeing him was too much for her. It was all she could do not to throw her arms around his neck and hug him. It was disconcerting as hell.
“The contractors put in the bar this morning, and I wanted a little break from the wood dust.” Then he pointed to the laptop case he held in one hand. “And I really need to work on the restaurant’s website.”
How was this happening? Her chance to offer him her help just fell onto her lap. Hiding her glee, she asked casually, “How’s that going?”
“It’s going,” he said a bit glumly. “I’ve been more focused on getting the photographs ready.”
Time to make her move. “Did Aubrey mention that I have a degree in graphic design?”
“Do you, now? Well, isn’t that handy.” His eyes lit up. “Are you volunteering to help me on Landon’s website?”
“Actually, Aubrey asked me to help out if I can. I’ve just been so busy.” She was lying through her teeth, but this was about saving face. He mustn’t know how much she wanted to spend time with him.
“I would love it if you could lend a hand,” he said with puppy-dog eyes as if she’d say no.
“Well, you’re in luck. I have some time before I need to go back to the brewery.”
“Oh, thank God.” His shoulders sagged in relief. “I really appreciate your help.”
Muahahahaha. She had him.
But her excitement turned to self-consciousness when he slid into her side of the booth and stopped a hand’s width away from her. She only had to shift her leg a tiny bit for her thigh to press against his. The bakery turned sweltering hot.
“Um. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the other side of the booth?” She cursed her pale skin as heat spread on her face.
“No, I’m perfectly comfortable here,” he said with a knowing grin.
Damn him. She caved and inched away from the warmth of his body, mumbling something about personal space.
“I need to sit beside you so we can share my laptop,” he explained, his eyes still sparkling with humor.
“You’re right. This is much more practical,” Tara agreed in a no-nonsense voice. She refused to let him see how much she wanted to jump on his lap and call him Santa baby.
Shit. I need my head examined.
Seth failed to mention that he came to Comfort Zone on the off chance that Tara might be there. There was no need to weird her out. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all day. So he’d packed up his laptop and come to the bakery with the intent of camping out as long as he could. That sounded desperate even to his own ears.
But he wasn’t really desperate. He just wanted to spend more time with her, because he’d had such a good time when they hung out. With her to distract him, he wouldn’t be impatiently counting down the days until he could finally go to Paris. That was why he’d celebrated with a mental fist pump when she offered to help him with the website.
Sitting so close to her with her tantalizing scent assailing his senses was delicious torture. He wanted to do so much more than sit demurely next to her. Though she didn’t act like it, he would like to think that she was as affected by their proximity as he was. Or were her cheeks always so rosy? He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The curl of her long lashes, the tip of her pert nose, and the lower lip snagged by her teeth as she peered into the laptop screen. Poor lower lip. He should lick it better.
“You really meant what you said about focusing on the photographs.” She glanced sideways at him. “You’ve basically registered the domain name and created a landing page.”
“We still have close to a month left. I thought it important to have all the content well prepared before I started,” he said. “Plus, I was procrastinating.”
Tara snorted. “Lazy ass.”
Before he could respond, Justine came to their booth and placed a plate of fresh-baked cherry-almond cookies on the table.
“Hey, Seth,” the baker said with a welcoming smile.
“He’s here … that is … with me … so we could work on Landon’s website together,” Tara blurted, looking like her teacher caught her drawing a caricature of him. “I have a degree in graphic design.”
“Okay. Cool.” Justine smiled at Tara and turned back to Seth. He straightened his features to hide his amusement. “Don’t tell me you already finished all those goodies you picked up yesterday.”
“We did finish it all,” he said. Tara kicked him in the ankle. “I mean, I finished it all. You know I can’t get enough of Comfort Zone’s desserts.”
“I don’t know where you put it all, but I’m glad we have such a loyal customer.” Justine looked askance at Tara. “Are you sure this will be enough? I don’t think he’ll leave you any.”
“Don’t worry. I can hold my own,” Tara said, pretending to size him up. To better accommodate her perusal, he opened up his chest and flexed subtly. “Nobody messes with my dessert. Not even Cookie Monster here.”
“As she just made clear, those are her cookies.” Seth watched Tara tug the plate of cookies closer to her. He wanted to kiss the adorable woman right then and there. “I’ll take a half-dozen brownie cookies.”
When Justine walked back into the kitchen, he turned to face Tara. “What? No salted caramel brownie?”
To his satisfaction, Tara blushed to the top of her roots. And her eyes dropped to his lips and stayed there. Oh, she remembered the kiss all right. His heart pumped at his own memory, and his blood rushed south.
“It was a bit too sweet for my taste.” Tara paused and met his gaze. “I like a little more … bite.”
It was Seth’s turn to blush. He was so fucking turned on. If she wanted a bite, he could give her a bite. In fact, he wanted to bite her plush lips and earlobes and scrape his tongue across … He needed to get a grip. Jumping on her at Comfort Zone would be equivalent to making a town-wide announcement that the two of them were dating.
He cleared his throat and stared hard at the computer screen. “Where do you want to start?”
“The beginning, obviously.” Tara let him change the subject, probably putting a tally mark by her name on the scoreboard. “What were you picturing for the website? Do you have a theme for it?”
“It’ll be easier if I showed you some of the pictures I took.” Seth turned the laptop toward him and opened up the photo album for the restaurant. “This is one of the pictures I took today. I wanted to capture the warm, welcoming air of the restaurant without giving it a blurry, rounded-out look. It was important to keep the photo sharp and focused like life heightened. The website symbolizes Landon’s dream but shouldn’t have a dreamy affect. I want his dream to feel real and alive.”
“Wow. These are amazing, Seth. And the restaurant is coming along so beautifully. Oh, I love the new floors.” Tara continued scrolling through his pictures, and his chest puffed out with pride. It felt damn good to have her compliment his work. Why did everything she did feel so … extra? “I’m getting a feel for what you’re saying. You show the restaurant in its best light. It doesn’t have a sleepy feeling. Instead, it pops and feels edgy through your lens, and that’s what the website should look like.”
“You got it on the nose. We make a good team.” He reached over and took a sip of her coffee. “Mmm. I love Americano.”
“Hey, get your own.” When he set the mug down in front of her, she wrapped both her hands around it and gave him a sideways glare.
“I already had three cups of coffee today. I need to slow down a bit.”
“Fine, we can share,” she said with a calculating look. “But I get one of your brownie cookies.”
“I have no problem sharing.” He leaned in close and said, “You’re the one who hogged the desserts yesterday.”
“I didn’t hog anything,” she said haughtily. “I won fair and square.”
“You call that fair and square? You got a head start.”
“And your legs are longer.”
“I guess I shouldn’t complain,” he relented, and changed tactics. “You did give me one bite of the brownie.”
“Would you please stop talking about the brownie?” She looked around the bakery as though someone might be listening.
“Why are you so nervous? Who here would understand what that bite of brownie means?”
“What does it mean? Do explain.”
“For a start, it was the best damn first kiss I ever had,” he said earnestly. “Don’t you dare deny it.”
“Agreed. And?”
“I know I’m leaving the country soon, but this attraction between us is extraordinary. We can’t keep fighting it.”
“Can’t or won’t? Wouldn’t giving in to our attraction complicate things for us? With Aubrey and Landon in our lives, can you be certain that we’ll be able to see each other again without it being weird?”
“We’re adults, Tara. We both know what we’re going into, so there won’t be any hurt feelings. We’ll be able to remain friends. I won’t make it weird. I promise.”
Tara stared at him for a long moment before she shook her head. “Why are we even talking about this right now? We’re supposed to be working on this website.”
“Wait.” Seth sat up as a sudden thought occurred to him. “Does this count as a date? If you’re counting this as a date, I’m leaving right now. I never agreed to a working date.”
“Seriously?” Her wide eyes looked too innocent. “We’re sharing a cup of coffee and having dessert together. It sounds like a date to me.”
“This is not a date. Coffee and dessert aside. We need to have a meal together for it to be a date. That’s the rule.”
“You’re making that up.”
“It was my dare, so I get to make up the rules.” He didn’t mind one bit that he came across as supremely immature.
“Fine. This isn’t a date.” Tara rolled her eyes. “Keep your pants on.”
“Is that your rule?” he teased, lightly bumping her with his shoulder. “I have to keep my pants on when we’re not on a date?”
“You are so immature.” Fighting a smile, she turned her attention back to the photographs. “How can someone so childish create such beautiful things?”
His heart thundered in his chest. As a kid, he’d always worn his heart on his sleeve and put his everything into his art. He chose photography as his profession because it put a barrier between his art and what the world saw. Unlike his art, photographs filtered out most of his inner self. But something in Tara’s voice told him that she was seeing more than he meant for her to see.
“The setting itself is beautiful. All I did was capture it,” he said warily.
Tara kept scrolling through the photos and Seth belatedly remembered the photos he’d taken of the light—when the light and shadow danced to create a small window into another place. He’d been tempted to place them into a separate folder, but he hadn’t wanted to admit that they were special to him. Because they weren’t. They were just some pictures that he’d enjoyed taking as a photographer. Pictures of the restaurant, which belonged in the restaurant folder.
But now, as Tara drew closer to them, Seth had the urge to snatch the laptop away from her. Despite his effort to minimize their significance, he had to face the fact that they were more than just pictures to him. And he didn’t want to hear her laugh at his pictures of wood dust. Goddammit. He was overreacting. He’d just played with the light a bit. That was it. They were nothing.
A sharp gasp from Tara ripped him out of his anxious musings. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were wide with wonder. With trepidation, he lowered his gaze to the screen to find the first photo of the enchanted light he’d captured.
“Seth,” she whispered, her voice so soft that he could hardly hear her. “This is … What is this?”
“It’s nothing.” His heart plummeted as he prepared for her laughter. He reached for the laptop and tried to shut it closed, but Tara pushed his hands aside and blocked the laptop with her shoulders.
“Hey, stop that,” she said, her eyes never leaving the screen.
As he sat beside her, the blood draining from his face, she scrolled through more of his photos from that day.
“Seth,” she said again, clutching at the front of her shirt. “These are … They’re alive.”
Something fierce burst into life inside of him. She didn’t laugh. Her surprise … her awe. It wasn’t because she thought his work was ridiculous. She liked it.
“It … I … sometimes … something comes over me,” he said in a low, halting voice. “It feels as though I’m transported to another place. Maybe a different dimension. Everything around me changes but is the same. It just becomes filled to the brim with life and beauty. My camera captures the other world, and that’s why those photos look … different.”
What the hell was he going on about? Even he could tell how odd that might sound to someone. His heart thundering, he slowly turned his gaze to Tara. She was staring at him with admiration and wonder in her eyes.
“I’ve seen your work. Your fashion magazine photos. They are so vibrant and full of life, and they always convey what you want to say through them. I’m no professional, but even I could tell that you have talent,” she said, not breaking eye contact. She was so close. Sometime during their struggle with the laptop, Tara had gotten closer to him, her leg and hip pressed against him. Her warmth and her scent assailed his senses, but he could only listen to her words. “But these … these are more than just pictures snapped by a talented photographer. They touch my soul and steal my breath. They’re works of art.”
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to taste those precious words, not just hear them. His veins pumped with an inexplicable emotion, too hot and sharp for his body to contain. Was it joy? Was it lust? Maybe a combination of both, but it intensified to the point where his nerves lit up. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned pale, his bones pushing against his skin. He couldn’t kiss her now.
But it was too much. It was the first time since his one-and-only exhibit that he’d shared a part of his art with anyone. These photos were mere shadows of what he wanted to do with them. They were the barest outline. Still, he’d shown her a part of himself that he’d guarded with his very being.
“Come with me.” He hardly recognized his own voice. It was so low it rumbled in his chest.
“What? Where?” she said. He shifted to the edge of the booth and took ahold of Tara’s hand. “Wait. Our stuff—”
“Leave them. We won’t be long.”
Tara tugged her hand free but followed him closely. Once outside, Seth grasped her hand again, and moved quickly to the alleyway behind Comfort Zone. He stood close to her but shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t grab her.
“Please. I need to kiss you,” he rasped. His whole body was on fire, and his mind screamed just one word. “Tara.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up on her toes. That was all the answer he needed. He backed her against the wall and planted both his palms above her head, and crushed his mouth against hers. A sound between a moan and a groan tore from him.
She tasted so good—like cherries and coffee. He used his tongue to lick her softly parted lips, coaxing her to open wider. She tilted her head to give him full access. God. He delved into her, soaking up the wet warmth of her mouth and the sweet sound of her moans. He pressed his body against hers, letting her feel the extent of his arousal. She made a throaty sound of approval and ground her hips against him. He hissed against her mouth, rational thought a thing of the past.
When her hands snuck under his shirt to roam over his chest and stomach, he jerked helplessly against her touch. He smoothed his hand down her arm, then cupped the fullness of her breast. She pushed herself against his palm, asking for more. He brushed his thumb over her peak, and she mewled. She actually fucking mewled like a fucking kitten.
His hand slid down her thigh, and he brought her leg around his waist and pressed his hardness into her center. It was only when she cried out that he remembered they were hiding behind his sister-in-law’s bakery, and someone could lumber down the alleyway at any moment. Shit. He was so close to taking her against the wall after promising her that he would keep their relationship a secret.
“We need to stop,” he said, tearing his lips away from Tara.
She growled and pulled him back, and he kissed her helplessly for a few desperate seconds, then lifted his head again. When she finally opened her eyes to look at him in a haze of desire and confusion, it took all of his willpower to step back from her.
“If we’re still keeping our dates a secret, I shouldn’t take you against the wall in an alleyway,” he said as he fought for breath.
Tara’s eyes widened with something like alarm, but when she blinked, it was gone. It was with a measured albeit winded voice that she said, “Dammit. I can’t believe I forgot what happened the last time we kissed in the park. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I kissed you. I dragged you out here with the single-minded intention to kiss you.”
“You think I didn’t know that?” Tara pressed the back of her hands against her flushed cheeks. “Fine. We both wanted to kiss, but we both should’ve known better than to kiss like this in public.”
“Now what?”
“What do you mean now what? We’re going to pretend like we had an important business discussion and go back inside Comfort Zone. We’ll finish our dessert like civilized people. Then I’ll leave and go back to the bar. You could stay a bit longer to work on the website, then leave as well.”
“You’re going back to the bar?” He couldn’t hide the disappointment and longing in his voice.
“I have to,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. He clasped his hand over hers. “I can’t play hooky to go to bed with you. Not when we’re trying to be discreet.”
“Of course not,” he said valiantly. “Let’s get back before too many people notice we’ve been gone.”
What he actually wanted to say was to hell with discreet. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder, run to Lola’s like Flash on a sugar high, and make love to her until neither of them could walk. At times like these, it would’ve been nice to really be a bad-boy player.