Page 52 of Hometown Hottie

I pushed back another burst of laughter and went to gather the ingredients from the pantry. As I came back with my arms full of everything I needed, Carson was waiting on my side of the table.

“Put me to work,” he said. “The least I can do is help.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Have you ever baked before?”

“Only with you.” He held my gaze for a moment and it was like I could feel that tether between us trying to pull me closer to him.

Naturally, that meant that I broke eye contact immediately. No one wanted a gorgeous guy looking at them like that when they couldn’t have him. Right? Now I’m talking to myself.

I cleared my throat and grabbed a couple mixing bowls. “Right. Okay. Yes. You can help. Can you empty the flour into this bowl and make a well in the middle for me?”

“Sure.” He grabbed a container and held it out to me.

“I said flour, please.”

He shrugged and continued to offer me the wrong container. “This is flour.”

“Then why does it say ‘sugar’ on it?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

He grinned and shook his head. “To confuse people?”

“Nope.”

He finally located the flour and then proceeded to simply dump it into the bowl. A cloud of white puffed all around us, and I laughed as Carson waved a hand in front of his face. “Shit. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“Are you sure you want to help?” I asked.

“Absolutely. What’s next?”

With both of us now covered in a fine layer of flour, I figured it was best to keep him away from the dry ingredients. “Make the well and then crack those eggs into it. I’ll take over from there. I’m just going to chop some strawberries first.”

“Shouldn’t I do the chopping? Holding a knife seems more manly than cracking eggs.”

I chuckled. “It might be more manly, but it’s also more dangerous.”

A minute later, I found out I’d been wrong. Having Carson around flour—even if just to crack eggs into it—was more dangerous than him holding a knife. For starters, no eggs had ended up in the well and there had been a few more clouds of flour for every egg he cracked.

“You’re a beautiful man, Carson Drake, but in here, you’re a big, burly mess in a very snug kitchen area. I think it’ll be better if you get out of my way.” I motioned at the flour we were both covered in as I moved in beside him. “I’ll make the pastries and you can help by keeping me company.”

“You got it.” He wiped the back of his hand over his jaw, leaving a clump of the mixture behind on his cheek.

Giggling at how he looked, I reached up to brush it away and suddenly realized that we were now standing chest to chest. In an instant, all the humor faded from the air around us and the tension that was always there when we were together was right on the verge of snapping again.

As I looked deep into his eyes, somehow unwilling to look away again, his hand landed on my hip and I leaned in, wanting nothing more than to kiss him again. My hands acted of their own accord, flour be damned as I ran them over his chest and shoulders.

Carson had always been big, but he seemed larger than life now with his legacy following him around, a constant, unseen presence that was evident in the hard strength of his body and the way he carried himself.

He certainly wasn’t the boy I’d fallen for when we were young, and yet, nothing had changed between the two of us. “We can’t do this.”

I breathed the words, my heart pounding. My entire body screamed at him to do it when he dipped his head like he was going to kiss me. Instead of that, however, he simply pressed his forehead to mine and the pained expression on his face told me that this was killing him as much as it was killing me.

Both of us wanted this, but neither of us wanted to be the one to give in. It would be too big of a betrayal to my brother. Carson must’ve had the same thought because a moment later, he stepped back, giving me space—and air that didn’t smell like his cologne.

With his long strides eating up the distance, he crossed to the other side of the kitchen and leaned against the counter there, gripping it like he physically needed it to keep him from coming back. Our eyes remained connected and I saw how difficult this was for him.

It wasn’t any easier for me. I wished the moment hadn’t ended so soon, but this was for the best. Finally drawing in a deep breath, I nodded and wordlessly went back to work. Painfully aware of him watching me, I made the pastries in silence, glad that these didn’t have a long baking time.

Once they were in the oven, I cleaned up, wondering if I should break the silence but really not knowing what to say. Carson moved like he was going to help me with the dishes, but I shook my head at him.

If he came within three feet of me right now, I wouldn’t be liable for my actions. So instead, he just watched while I did that too, and then he took the boxes from me once I’d filled them with fresh pastries. As I walked him to the door, everything just felt so unfinished between us, but I took the easy way out.

“Don’t eat all of those in the truck,” I said, my voice slightly hoarse and husky from disuse. “Save some for your mom.”

He stopped when we reached the door, waiting for me to open it before he flashed me the tiniest grin ever. “Thanks for this, Nova. I’ll make sure to tell my mom about the effort you made for us.”

“No problem. Have a good weekend. Goodbye, Carson.”

It seemed like he had something else to say, but he must’ve decided against it because he turned to leave instead. Just before he walked out the door, he finally looked at me again over his shoulder. “Oh, I’ll, uh, I guess I’ll see you at the lake. Probably.”

My heart lurched and my eyebrows shot up, but he was gone before I could ask him what he’d meant. As far as I knew, this was supposed to be a girls’ trip, but if Carson was going and we did see each other there, at a place where the drinks would be flowing and I wouldn’t be able to hide behind work or chores, I didn’t know if I was going to be able to keep my distance.

And if I didn’t, then this explosive situation between us was about to get out of hand. Maybe I shouldn’t have let them convince me to go to the lake after all.

But I had and I wasn’t the type to let my friends down at the last minute. So I was going, and apparently, Carson was too. Let the games begin, I suppose.