“Have dinner with me.”
I raised my brows. “Like a date?”
“No. Just two people sharing a meal. One of those people will bring a list of boundaries and rules, while the other listens.”
“I’m the one making the rules, right? Just so we’re clear.”
“We’re clear.” His lips quirked up. “I gotta go. Thanks for the tea.”
“I didn’t get a chance to make it for you,” I protested as he walked toward the door.
He smiled at me over his shoulder. “Rain check.”
Chapter9
“Horace found us a van,”Jazz said as she poured the hot syrup into the pink, silicone star molds.
I pulled open the oven and removed the wafer cookie I’d made in the shape of a hot-air balloon basket. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. The price is right, but it needs some work. A carburetor, I think. It’s old. And a sand belt. Whatever the hell that is. Horace is going to get the parts and install them for us.”
“I don’t think a sand belt is a thing in cars.”
“Yeah, remember that time I still didn’t care? Told you—Horace will take care of it. Don’t worry.”
“That’s super generous of him.” I pointed at the cookie sheet with my oven mitt. “I think that came out well.”
“You’re a genius,” she said.
My phone chimed a few times. I removed my oven mitts and set them aside before taking my cell out of my back pocket. A smile flitted across my face when I saw it was from Slash.
“I haven’t seen you smile like that in months,” Jazz remarked. “What’s got you grinning?”
Slash had texted, telling me that I wasn’t allowed to bail on our dinner meeting and that I needed to choose the place and time.
For a bossy biker, he was giving me a lot of control.
Boundaries? Respect? Or was this just some bigger plan to orchestrate control so he could worm his way into getting what he wanted…
“Earth to Brooklyn,” Jazz said.
I set my phone aside without replying and looked at her. “Slash.”
“Slash? Slash, what?”
I bit my lip. “Slash was the biker who I…”
“Slept with,” she finished for me. Then her gaze went to my phone. “He’s texting you? Why is he texting you? Oh my God, did you get in contact with him?”
I shook my head. “He, uh, kind of showed up yesterday at the bakery.”
“Out of the blue?”
“Out of the blue,” I confirmed.
“Well? Don’t leave me hanging. I’m dying here.”
“He said one night wasn’t enough.” I felt my cheeks heat. “But I said I wasn’t interested. He asked if we could talk. He came into the bakery, and the bag of baby books I was holding ripped and he saw them.”