She quickly swiped at both sides of her own mouth, her cheeks lighting on fire. How was it that he could make her feel like an awkward sixteen-year-old again? “Fine. Sit down. I’ll get you something chocolate.” But it wouldn’t be the chocolate croissant she’d had. Because it was amazing, and he didn’t deserve it.

She gestured for Leo to sit down and walked into the back room. Thank goodness her mom usually took Tuesday afternoons off. If she knew Tessa had just invited Leo to stay and sully their bakery with his Castorini DNA, gorgeous though it was, she would fumigate the entire place.

Tessa walked over to a baking tray and decided to change her tactic. She selected a perfectly formed chocolate croissant to put on a plate. Despite the fact that she’d only stayed in this tiny town to help her mother and grandmother in the bakery after her dad died, while Leo left to attend the best schools on the planet, she wouldn’t let that bitter pill ruin her reputation as a quality baker. Life might have waylaid her dream of becoming a real pastry chef, but it hadn’t killed it. Until she could actually realize it, she’d studied tirelessly and taught herself as much about baking as she could. And so she was going to hand him the best one of the entire bunch.

Just let him try to find fault with it.

“Aren’t you living in New York?” she asked as she walked over to a table by the window where he sat scrolling through his phone. She set the plate in front of him and stepped back.

“Not anymore.” He gestured for her to sit down, like they were old friends, not frenemies. “Got my MBA, and now I’m back,” he said, eyeing the croissant. “To help my dad.”

Between his dad and her mom, it was a complete toss-up who was more obstinate. And she knew for a fact that in Leo’s case, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Whatever brought him here to actually speak to her had to be important.

She looked out the window and scanned the street nervously. “If anyone sees us in here together…”

He casually crossed his arms, which showcased biceps as nicely rounded and perfect as one of her petits pains. “Isn’t it time for that silly feud to end?”

She tilted her head. “Tell our parents that.” She wasn’t going to let her guard down with him, no matter how friendly he seemed. Those moony brown eyes might make other women melt, but not her, no siree.

“So, about business.” He took a bite of the croissant.

“Business,” she repeated. Talking business with a Castorini. What a weird day this was turning out to be.

“It’s no secret that…” His voice suddenly trailed off.