We were both breathing heavily, neither of us saying anything for close to a minute.

“Been imagining doing that for a long time,” he rasped. “And I like to think I have a pretty vivid imagination, but… fuck.”

My skin tingled, and I was still having trouble seeing clearly, thinking clearly. Most of my attention was on Rowan’s lips and getting them back on mine as soon as possible.

“You’ve got a bakery to open,” Rowan told me when I didn’t say anything.

“I vaguely recall owning a bakery,” I whispered, my voice not sounding like my own.

His lips turned up. But not in the same smile I’d been treated to previously. No, this one wasn’t light or soft. His expression was still harsh, features held tight, eyes clouded with hunger.

Rowan was trying to hold on to control. Because he wanted me.

Him kissing the absolute fuck out of me also communicated that, to be fair. But the way he was holding himself together, seemingly by a thread, made me feel… powerful.

Rowan glanced to his side, so I did too.

Maggie was sitting a few feet away from us, tongue wagging happily.

I let out a half hysterical giggle at us nearly having sex on my car at five in the morning with the dog watching us.

Rowan lowered me down before leaning in to kiss me gently on the nose, in direct juxtaposition with the deliciously brutal way he’d just claimed my mouth. Then he stepped back, lifting his cap to run his hand through his hair before placing it back on.

“Gotta get you to the bakery.” It wasn’t a statement. There was an unsaid question there. An invitation, maybe?

My house was right there. Steps away. There were beds. But if I let my desire guide me, we definitely would not make it to the bed upstairs. We’d be having sex on the vintage rug in my entryway.

My nerve endings sang at the mere prospect of that.

And I almost did it. Took the lead. Gave in to those carnal instincts.

But at the last minute, I wussed out.

“Yeah, gotta get to the bakery,” I sighed.

He didn’t look disappointed. Or at least not that I could see. He nodded, gave me one last panty melting look then whistled to Maggie.

She promptly got up and jumped into the truck when he opened the door for her.

I got in my own car, and Rowan followed me all the way to the bakery, idling there until I unlocked the door and made it inside.

Because he was the kind of man who waited until I was safe before he let me out of his sight.

The problem was, I knew, even then, my heart wasn’t safe with him around.

Chapter Nine

Recipe: Fall Loaf

From ‘Dessert Person’ (written as Spiced Honey and Rye Cake)

“So,” Fiona said, leaning against the counter.

I looked up from my dough. “So what?”

“Don’t play coy with me, bitch,” she snapped. “I left you last night, half pissed with the man you’ve been drooling over since forever, standing in your house declaring he was spending the night. What the fuck happened last night?”