Page 32 of Big Girl Panties

He kissed me like he'd been thinking about it for hours. Days.

He made me feel wanted. More wanted than I'd ever felt before.

Heat pooled low in my stomach when he nipped my bottom lip. He pressed closer, backing me against the prep table, his hands dropped to my waist, fingers spanning wide. In one fluid motion, he lifted me, the cold steel shocking against my thighs through the thin fabric of my leggings as he stepped between my legs, never breaking the kiss.

A crash echoed through the empty café, and reality slammed back into focus. My palm pressed against his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my fingers as we both pulled out of the kiss. We stared at each other, both breathing hard, as though sound filled the quiet café.

"Well," I smoothed down my hair and tried to pretend my face wasn't the color of a ripe tomato, "that escalated quickly."

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, grinning sheepishly. "Pretty sure we just violated about seventeen health codes. Think the health inspector would buy that we were just taste-testing?"

I glanced at the flour now decorating the floor like culinary confetti. "Unless passion and desire are a new flavor profile, I'm thinking no."

He huffed out a laugh as he helped me down.

I cleared my throat as I leaned down to pick up the bowl, pretending like nothing happened. "So, we'll tag team this and knock out two or three dozen chocolate chip cookies in enough time for you to go home and get ready."

"Let's do this." He clapped his hands together, sending up a small cloud of flour.

"Okay," I said, scanning my finger down the recipe. "Let's start with flour," I pointed to the bowl in front of him.

"I need you to measure carefully," I said, watching him fumble with the measuring cups. "Precision matters."

"I'm usually pretty good with my hands."

"Uh-huh." I watched him overshoot the flour measurement. "Is that what you tell all the girls?"

"Only the ones I'm trying to impress." His eyes didn't leave mine. "Is it working?"

I laughed.

"And the ones teaching me their secret recipes."

"This isn't exactly a secret recipe. It's chocolate chip cookies."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Maybe. But I'm not really here for the cookies."

I couldn't help but smile as I walked away, letting him work on his part, and I started on my part.

"So, do you live close to your family?" I asked as I worked to preheat the oven, our backs to each other.

"Uh, yeah, kind of," he said. "My brother Niko owns CrossFit Tampa, about three blocks from here. He lives with his wife, Leilani, and their mini tornadoes, I mean, kids, on Davis Island. My parents and my sister fled to Miami a few years ago after my dad retired from wrestling."

"Your dad was a wrestler, too?"

"Yeah, for twenty years. My grandparents moved here from Samoa when my mom was young, and my grandfather was also a wrestler. That's how my parents met."

"Wow!" I jabbed the start button on the oven like I was defusing a bomb. "Does your brother wrestle too?"

"No. Wrestling was never Niko's thing." Matt grinned. "He was more of a pose in tiny shorts and a spray-tanned kind of athlete. Did bodybuilding for a while, but now he's happy running his gym and pretending he's not terrified of his three-year-old."

He paused for a moment, like he was concentrating on something. "Speaking of my brother…" I twisted, and so did he, our chests bumping each other in the small space. I stumbled back, but Matt's hands flew out, circling me and landing on my ass. He pulled me hard against him, and it was suddenly hot and hard to breathe.

"Sorry," he smirked. He wasn't sorry, and neither was I. "Are you okay?"

I nodded as my gaze lifted to meet his, and I burst out laughing. He was covered in flour. His brows pulled tightly together. "Did you get any flour in the bowl?"

"It's all over my face, isn't it?" Releasing me, he swiped at his cheek, managing to spread more flour instead of cleaning it.