I dragged out the chair opposite her. My mouth watered like my thawing boots at the deep, rich smell filling the room.

She nudged the mug at the center of the table toward me. “There’s cinnamon rolls too.” Her voice was muffled behind a gulp of her hot chocolate.

I braced my hands on my thighs to not jump up to grab the food. I’d held out for way longer before.

Slowly thawing, I sat watching the easy way the two of them interacted. I’d seen it before, but not this up close.

Molly took the rolls out of the oven and Bay grabbed three plates from the cabinet. She went up onto her tiptoes and the shorts crept up the backs of her thighs showing off the slightest hint of a curve of her ass.

Right about then, I was damn happy to still be partially frozen. Inappropriate boners stopped being excusable probably ten years ago.

“You don’t like the hot chocolate?” Molly slipped the hearty cinnamon, sugar, and icing-covered breakfast plate in front of me.

My mouth was a faucet as the warm, delicious smells filled my lungs.

“I love it. I was waiting for the cinnamon roll.” I hadn’t had the first sip yet. I’d been distracted watching Bay and trying not to go full Neanderthal on the food. The mug was still warm and the rich flavor coated my tongue. The spices in it made me think of a TV Christmas where the family wore matching pajamas and laughed while tearing into wrapping paper in the lit-up backdrop of a perfectly imperfect tree.

“This is delicious.” I drained the cup faster than I should with a case of fuzzy tongue as my penance. The taste and my empty stomach had won out over the burn.

“Here, there’s more.” Molly refilled my mug before yawning again. “I’m headed to catch some shut eye. Thank you again, Dare, and there’s some more hot chocolate, if you wanted to take some with you. I’m sure Bay wouldn’t mind parting with a couple of her cinnamon rolls.” She kissed Bay on the top of her head and the two of us were left alone in the kitchen.

“You baked these.” I took another bite of the sugary, sweet roll.

Her cheeks reddened and she shrugged. “I made a bunch a few months ago and froze more of them. They’re a pain in the ass to make.” She uncurled one strip of the swirl and ripped it apart with her fingers before popping it into her mouth. “But I like to make them for mom when she comes home from work.”

I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone do anything that nice for me.

“They’re delicious.”

“They’re a little freezer burned. I need to finish this batch before they’re inedible.”

“I doubt they could be.”

“You can take as many as you want. Let me get you a container.” She popped up and rummaged through the drawers.

One second we were having a nice conversation and the next she’s trying to shove me out the front door.