Instead, he shared, “My sister got help, she talked about it, she faced it, she dealt with it. Now she’s married and has three kids. Her life’s a fuckin’ mess but it’s a mess of the grape jelly smears on her car upholstery variety. My old girlfriend didn’t get help, she didn’t talk about it, she buried it deep, and her life went right down the toilet. He took what he took from her but, babe, with her not fightin’, she gave him the rest.”

Oh man.

“Brock—”

He cut me off to announce, “Straight up, baby, I wanna explore this with you. I liked what we had. I fuckin’ missed it when it was gone. I want that back and I wanna know how it feels to have it not havin’ my job comin’ between us. This is why I’m here. You want that too. We have to have this conversation. Because I’m in your bed, you’re in mine, I’m in your life, you’re in mine, that motherfucker isn’t going to be there too. You get what I’m sayin’?”

I got what he was saying.

And I also liked that he wanted to explore this with me with everything clear between us and that he missed me when I was gone. I liked it a whole bunch because for three months I felt the same exact way.

“I’ve moved on,” I assured him and just like that, the snap of angry electricity left the air and the sweet, steady hum of his humor hit it.

“Right, my sweet, sexy, totally clueless Tess with her glasses and thick fuckin’ hair and great fuckin’ rack, who can bake a cake most men would trade their balls for and who looks at you like you’re the only motherfuckin’ guy on earth, goes six years without a fuckin’ date when half the guys at your bakery probably come on to you and you have no fuckin’ idea, that Tess has moved on. I see this. Totally. We’re obviously good.”

Okay, there was a lot there that I liked.

A lot.

But there was some of it I didn’t like.

At all.

Therefore, I snapped, “I’m not clueless,” and pulled back on his hand at my neck, which only served to make it tense and bring me closer.

“Tess, darlin’, of all the men who walk into your bakery or come in contact with you through your life, the last one you should take one look at, he smiles at you and asks if you wanna get a beer, you should never have said yes to.”

“That’s you,” I informed him acidly.

He grinned. “I know. I’m the only person lucky you’re totally clueless.”

Contradictorily, I felt all warm and gushy inside from his earlier Brock-like compliments and at the same time I was totally pissed.