Close to You

a blond angel who
baked.
    He didn’t do good girls. Good girls
wanted poofy white dresses and picket fences. Good girls wanted
Prince Charming to ride up and whisk them away.
    He wasn’t walking
down that path
again, even for someone who wore lingerie on her feet.
    Clearing his throat, he said on
impulse, “I’ll take one for here and one to-go.”
    “ You like chocolate.” She
studied him. “I bet you’d love my mocha.”
    Especially if he could lick it off her
belly. “That good?”
    “ Yes.” Her cheeks flushed
as she nodded. “Try it. I’ll refund your money if you don’t like
it.”
    “ It’s a deal.”
    “ For here too?” She turned
and reached for a cup.
    “ Yes.” The apron may have
concealed her front, but it did nothing to hide her backside. It
was the kind of ass that begged to be grabbed and held on
to.
    Averting his eyes before he started
drooling on the counter, he surveyed the café again. “Do you own
this place?”
    “ Yes.” She steamed milk,
looking at him over her shoulder. “I’ve been open almost six months
now.”
    “ Business is
good?”
    “ It’s great and getting
better every day.”
    Margaret wasn’t going to be happy to
hear that. He picked up a flyer from the counter. “You have a book
group?”
    “ And we’re doing a singles’
night soon.” Her face flushed again as she glanced at him. “Though
you probably don’t care about that.”
    “ Depends.” He wanted to ask
if she’d be there—there wasn’t a ring on her finger—but some topics
were best left alone. She wasn’t for him.
    “ If you want to know about
it, you can sign up for my newsletter.” She nodded at a signup
sheet to the right of the register.
    “ Sure.”
    By the time he’d scratched his name
and email down, she finished his drink. She added a large flourish
of whipped cream to the top and pushed it across the counter at
him. “There you go.”
    “ How did you know I have a
sweet tooth?” he asked as he paid the amount she quoted.
    She blushed again. “Just a
guess.”
    On impulse, he reached out his hand.
“Nice to meet you…”
    She took his hand. He’s expected a
soft shake, but there was strength there. And warmth. “Eve. Eve
Alexander,” she replied. “And you?”
    Of course she’d be named after a
temptress. “Treat.”
    She nodded, letting go of his hand. “I
hope you’ll come again, Treat.”
    He smiled and moved to a table. The
first sip of the mocha startled him. Rich and creamy with a touch
of dark to temper the sweet. He’d expected a saccharine coffee
drink.
    The croissant was even
better.
    As he enjoyed the pastry, he watched
the people come and go and the friendly way Eve handled them.
Sometimes she talked enthusiastically about a book, sometimes she
gave baking tips. One thing was constant: she always made everyone
feel at home, like you wanted to stay and hang out.
    His mother was not going to be
happy.
    Picking up the croissant he got for
her, he waved to Eve as he left, trying not to notice the adorable
way her face pinkened.
    He didn’t even have to get out his
keys—Margaret had the door open before he reached it. “Well?” she
asked impatiently.
    “ The owner’s name is Eve
Alexander, and her store is cute if small. She bakes her own
pastries.” He handed her the white baggie. “Her business is
completely different than yours. I don’t see how it should affect
you.”
    “ It does affect me. She’s
stealing my customers.” Frowning, his mom opened the bag and
sniffed suspiciously. “She made this?”
    “ Yeah.” If it were anyone
else, he’d have suggested that she buy her scones from Eve, but his
mother would have taken that as a betrayal. “I have to get to my
job site, Mom. See you later.”
    She grabbed his arm. “Wait. I have
more questions.”
    “ Mom, I have a crew I need
to check on.”
    “ But—”
    “ Go over there yourself.
Introduce yourself to her. She’s nice.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Nice?”
    He kissed her cheek. “Call me if the
faucet acts up.”
    “ Treat—”
    “ No,” he said, guessing
what she was going to ask.
    “ But—”
    “ No. Bye, Mom.” He kissed
her again and extricated himself before she could guilt him into
going back to Grounds for Thought. He liked flirting with
temptation as much as the next guy, but the last thing he needed
was to get mixed up with Eve Alexander. A good girl who was his
mother’s rival? It spelled trouble, and nothing was worth that,
even if she did bake