“I wouldn’t let him deface the tree.” Jazzy chuckled. “He wanted to, but I’m such a rule follower and I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor old pecan that has to bear the burden of so much ripe, young love.”
“Kind,” Roan murmured. “Even to a tree.”
“What?” Jazzy blinked up at him, hearing something odd in his voice.
“You’re a truly kind person, Jazzy Walker.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “Oh, I have my moments.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She tilted her chin upward.
He had one forearm resting on the tree, his body half turned toward her. She was facing him and feeling a little unsteady on her feet. There was a look in his eyes that sent a thrilling army of goose bumps spreading over her skin.
Roan cleared his throat.
Jazzy leaned in.
He lowered his head.
From the outdoor speakers mounted in the trees, Michael Bublé sang “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.” Jazzy stood stock-still, barely breathing. Every hope in her body aching for a kiss.
Briefly, Roan touched the tip of his tongue to his upper lip.
She gulped. What would she do if he kissed her? Better question, what would she do if he didn’t?
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Roan murmured.
Fresh sweet shivers. “Probably because you’re baking again because of me, and it’s fired up your passion.”
“I’m fired up all right, but it’s not about baking.” His tone came out deeper than normal.
“No?” she said, sounding so breathless that she wasn’t sure if he heard her or not.
“For you to win this contest, we need to work closely together for hours, every single day until the competition.”
“That’s not a problem for me.” She met his gaze dead-on.
Roan didn’t flinch. “If we do this, I’m serious about it.”
“Me too. I intend on taking that trophy away from Andi Browning.”
“I’m not talking about baking.”
“Oh.” She pursed her lips. “You mean...us.”
“I do.”
Suddenly the chills of excitement vanished, and stifling heat swamped her body. She wanted to shed her jacket, fling her arms around Roan’s neck, and tell him she was all in for a rebound romance.
“So...” she said.
“So?” He arched one eyebrow and peered at her with a comically quizzical grin.
“Are you going to kiss me or not?”
His grin widened and he cocked his Stetson back on his head. Roan’s arms went around her, and hismasculine scent filled her senses. She could hear traffic passing on the road paralleling the park, but drivers couldn’t see them because of the stone wall barrier. Not that she would have cared if they could.