Page 20 of Win a Date with a Baker

Then her gaze drops to my mouth.

That’s all the permission I need. I lean in slowly. She meets me halfway.

The first touch of her lips is soft. Careful. A question.

I answer by sliding one hand around her waist and pulling her closer.

She makes a quiet sound against my mouth, and every ounce of restraint I’ve been clinging to snaps.

The kiss deepens. Her hands move to my chest. Mine tighten at her waist.

She tastes like champagne and sugar and something uniquely her that I can’t name.

I angle my head and kiss her again. Harder.

She rises onto her toes. Her fingers curl into my shirt.

I dig my fingers into her curvy hips. Heat rushes through me so fast I forget where we are.

Forget the order waiting to be finished. Forget every reason this is a bad idea.

All I know is that she fits against me like she belongs here. In my kitchen. In my arms.

Her mouth opens under mine, and I’m gone.

Then someone pounds on the back door.

“Hello!”

Elizabeth jerks back.

I catch her before she stumbles, keeping one hand at her waist.

Another frantic knock rattles the door. “You in there?”

I close my eyes. Of course. Of course this happens now.

I open my eyes and nearly groan. Elizabeth’s lips are swollen. Her cheeks are flushed.

She looks every bit as wrecked as I feel.

Which does absolutely nothing to help the situation happening below my belt.

She gives a breathless laugh. “You have excellent timing.”

“I wasn’t the one knocking.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.“Is anyone in there?”

I rest my forehead against hers for one brief second. “Ignore them.”

Her smile brushes my mouth. “Can you?”

“No.”

Another knock.

“For the love of God! I see the light. Will someone please open?”