“Did someone die?” she asked.

His wide, big smile faltered a bit. “That’s a bit morbid, even for you.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, I’m sure your dad didn’t send you over for a cup of sugar.” Not when their families had been giving each other the cold shoulder since before she and Leo were born.

“No one died,” he said. That damn smile was back. Did he ever stop smiling? “I was just wondering if we could talk.”

She raised a brow. The last time they’d talked, it had been about the fact that their high school GPAs were .0004 points apart—but his was higher. After that, she’d spent the whole night kneading and baking away her frustration. She’d made more brioche than the entire town could have eaten in a year.

Technically, she would have beaten him for the top spot in their class.

But that technically was a whole other story. A secret she mostly wanted to forget.

Except it reminded her of his true character. Leo was like an éclair. Pretty and charming on the outside, but with a core that was all fluff and no substance.

As if sensing her apprehension, he threw his hands up, palms out. “Just talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Business,” he said. “A business proposition.”

Well, this was interesting. But it was absolutely, positively not going to happen. Everyone in Blossom Glen was aware that the Montgomerys and Castorinis did not do business together, and Tessa and Leo knew that better than anyone. “Did you have a wine-tasting at your restaurant today? Are you drunk?”

“Sober as a preacher.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward a little. “This can benefit both our businesses. I think it’s worthwhile for you to hear me out.”

What was he up to? He’d made a fortune in New York, or so everyone said. And he’d been in town for a couple months now, helping his dad in their restaurant and managing a local apartment complex. Wasn’t he busy enough? And what did he want with her?

She couldn’t help but notice that he smelled really good. Whatever clovey-spicy shampoo he used to wash those jet-black locks was…practically edible. Though truthfully, she was easily impressed these days. She hadn’t been this close to a man who didn’t smell like yeast in quite a while.

Plus, she reminded herself, women had been falling at his feet for as long as she could remember. Which was why his friends used to call him Leo the Legend.

“Can I get you something?” She waved her hand over the bakery case. To be polite. Because she was on the clock.

“I’ll have whatever you just had,” he said.

She frowned. Was he playing games? “How do you know what I just had?”

He tapped the corner of his mouth. “Because you’ve got a tiny little speck of chocolate right there.”