But maybe she wouldn’t have to.

If Tessa made the bakery successful—really successful—his dad wouldn’t be able to afford their business. And Tessa wouldn’t need her mom’s money. And her mom wouldn’t need to sell her business.

Problem solved.

He’d do everything in his power to make that happen.

Except that shaky house of cards depended on an awful lot of ifs.

…

At eight thirty that night, Cinnamon Toast Crunch was calling Tessa’s name. Bone-deep tiredness made her want to grab a bowl of her favorite comfort food, then crash for the night. She walked in the back door to find Leo in the kitchen, steam rising from a big pot and bright-colored vegetables scattered about the counter. “Hey,” she managed, stifling a yawn. Good thing she was too exhausted to worry about any Leo-initiated tingles hitting her tonight.

“Hard day?” he asked as he quickly and expertly chopped an onion. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Wait. He was cooking dinner for her? Waiting to eat with her? How…unexpected.

“Long day,” she said. “But all good. By the way, my mom couldn’t stop singing your praises all afternoon.”

“She was pretty thrilled that Jack and I got those doors out of the storage room.”

“And then you spent another half hour cleaning and sweeping. She’s your fan for life.”

“I’m glad to hear she’s not holding the feud against me. That means our plan is making a difference.” He looked up and grinned, which sent a wave of tingles instantly spreading all through her. And the dreaded flush rushing furiously into her cheeks. Ugh.

There was an unidentifiable vegetable that looked like an onion, only more oblong, sitting on a cutting board. Surrounded by garlic and baby lettuce and oranges, a partially-grated hunk of parmesan and…a bottle of vodka.

Hmmm. “Trying a new recipe?” she asked.

“Nope. Making a tried-and-true one.” He stopped chopping and stood up, which brought them face to face in the tiny kitchen as Tessa herself reached up to the cupboard. Tessa looked up—way up—into his eyes, which held a tinge of amusement. Over his gray T-shirt he wore an apron that said MR. GOOD LOOKIN’ IS COOKIN’. There was nothing but a box of cereal between them.

He plucked it quietly out of her hands. They both stood there in the middle of the aisle, staring at each other, his mouth slowly quirking upward, while Tessa’s heart began to beat steadily in her ears. “You have time for a quick shower,” he finally said, gently turning her around. “Dinner is going to be so much better than a bowl of Cheerios.”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch,” she called over her shoulder.

“That, too.”