“Would you two like to come for tea again?” Eileen asked. “I’d love to hear more about how things have been, beyond the fainting.”

“That sounds great,” Archer said.

“An evening tea, perhaps,” she said, blotting her forehead with her sleeve. “Avoid the worst of this blasted afternoon heat.”

“Actually…” Mateo paused. “Would it be too much to ask if all of the dancers came for tea? Archer and I will help,” he added hurriedly, “with the baking and setup and cleanup and everything. But I think it would be really nice if everyone could come.”

The urge to touch Mateo’s arm was overwhelming, so he did. “That’s an amazing idea.” The spark he felt each time their skin touched was only growing stronger.

Eileen tilted her head up and smiled at them. “Hell of an idea. Let’s do it. Sunday?”

“Sunday.”

Archer and Mateo tracked down some extra folding tables from the dining hall and set them up in front of Eileen’s cabin Sunday morning. They also borrowed a carafe for hot water and some extra mugs. They spent the afternoon in her kitchen making food—cucumber sandwiches, blueberry scones, and petits fours. Eileen even made some gluten-free vegan fudge to make sure everyone had a treat, but Mateo was all over the rest of the baking.

“The trick to fluffy scones,” he explained to Archer, “is using frozen butter.”

“Oh, is it?” Archer replied seriously, trying not to smile at the smudge of flour Mateo had on his forehead and his overall aproned adorableness. “And you have frozen butter, do you?”

Mateo turned and rummaged into Eileen’s freezer, then triumphantly pulled out a foil-wrapped brick. “You do when you plan ahead.”

Archer wanted to giggle. “Wow.”

Mateo’s eyes narrowed. “Are you laughing at me, Archer Read?”

“Me?” Archer pressed a hand to his chest and batted his eyes. “I would never, Mr. Dixon.”

“Good. Fluffy scones are no joke.” Mateo unwrapped the butter and pulled a cheese grater out of a cupboard.

“And why do you have a cheese grater?” Archer fought the urge to slide his arms around Mateo’s waist and rest his chin on that broad shoulder while he worked.

“For the frozen butter, of course. Keep up, Archer!”

Their laughter filled the small kitchen as they worked, hips bumping when Mateo reached into the bowl to show Archer how to mix the butter into the dry ingredients. “You want it to be coarse like this, see?” The way Mateo’s hands squeezed the dough gave Archer ideas that were entirely inappropriate for the situation.

Archer studied Mateo’s face instead. “Got it.”

Eileen bustled around making the sandwiches, and Archer had no idea why she winked at him when Mateo took Archer’s hands to help him properly knead the dough.