Can’t Hurry Love, Nadine Millard [10 best novels of all time .TXT] 📗

placed the box carefully on the counter. “So, what’s in here anyway?”

Beth got the feeling he was avoiding the subject of his insomnia, but she couldn’t let herself care or be curious, so she ignored it and moved to switch on the coffee machine.

“Brownies,” she answered as casually as she could. “And blondies. I bake some stuff at home.” The kitchen at the ranch was bigger than the modest one here.

“There’s more in the truck?” he asked.

“Yeah. But I can manage it,” she said swiftly.

He looked at her, really looked for a moment or two, and Beth found herself wondering what he was searching for.

But then, the grin was back.

“Tell you what, I’ll bring the rest in for you. But it’ll cost you a brownie. And maybe a coffee?”

She didn’t want to respond to his playfulness, but she couldn’t help it. She just felt happy around him — when he wasn’t rejecting her, obviously.

“I already said I’d do it myself,” she responded with a raised brow.

“Yes, but I got out of my warm, cozy bed practically in the middle of the night to help you. I’m a good citizen. I deserve a reward.”

To her horror, Beth felt her cheeks heating at the mention of his bed. And she found herself picturing him lying there, the sheets draped just over his hips like in the movies. She wondered if he slept naked. And before she could stop herself, she began imagining that too for good measure.

“Beth?”

Somehow, her thoughts must have shown on her face because his voice dropped, his eyes darkened, and he took a step closer.

If this was one of her romantic movies, this would definitely be a kiss scene.

But because she knew the sting of rejection that came after that, Beth was able to step away. “Fine.” Her smile felt as brittle as her voice sounded. “It’s a deal. You do the heavy lifting, and I’ll make the coffee.”

He watched her again for what felt like hours before he nodded, whether in agreement or because he knew she was deliberately putting distance between them, Beth didn’t know.

And it was only when the bell over the door rang out, signalling his exit that she allowed herself to breathe again.

“Stop it right now,” she whispered, hoping that if she heard the words out loud, they might actually work. “He’s not interested. Where the heck is your self-respect, girl?”

By the time he came back in, showing off by carrying three of the large boxes stacked on top of each other, she had the coffee brewing and her body and heart back under control. Or something close enough to control, which would have to do for now.

“The coffee won’t be long,” she called over her shoulder, afraid to look at him. “If you just put the boxes with the others, that’d be great.”

He didn’t respond, so she assumed he’d done as he’d been told.

Beth fired up the ovens and began pulling ingredients from the huge larder.

“You’re making more?” he asked, and she had to turn around and acknowledge him because, well, she’d look completely nutty if she didn’t.

He’d taken up residence on one of the barstools at the counter, and she couldn’t believe how good he looked in grey sweats and a Harvard hooded sweatshirt.

Seriously, who looked that good at this time of the morning anyway?

She laughed softly at his question. “Yeah, a lot more,” she answered. “I only bake the stuff that will keep well until the morning when I’m at home. Everything else is done here.”

“So, what are you making now?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

Her tummy felt all warm and gooey at his interest. Aside from Zoe, nobody really took much of an interest in her bakery.

Grayson, Zach, and Seth had been great helping her set up. And she knew that they wanted her to do well, wanted her to be happy. But she always got the feeling they saw it as a hobby. A side-hustle. When her real life was just being a nothing on the ranch.

It was nice to have someone treat it, and her, as if they were worth knowing about.

The coffee machine had warmed up and was ready to go, and Beth chattered about the day ahead and the bakery in general as she set about making his an extra-hot, double-shot latte with no foam. She made herself a cappuccino and set them both on the counter before removing two brownies from the box and setting them in front of Josh.

She didn’t really have time for a coffee break and a chat. But — well, she was an idiot because she took one anyway.

When she took a seat and looked up at him, he was watching her closely again in that way that unnerved her.

“You know my coffee order?” He sounded surprised, and Beth was mortified, feeling as if she’d given something away.

Josh probably thought she hadn’t noticed how much he’d come in here, because she’d usually tried to make herself scarce when he had.

But she knew.

Every time.

Like a stalker.

After jumping to her feet, she took a scalding sip of her cappuccino, wincing slightly as it burnt her tongue.

“Yeah. Good memory, I guess,” she said weakly. “Anyway, I’d better get started on these pastries. I’m already behind.”

She started pouring ingredients into her mixers, praying that they were accurate since her brain was too busy being lobotomised by Josh’s presence to be any use to her.

“I’ll let you get to it then,” he said as he stood, coffee cup in hand, extra brownie wrapped in the other.

She also knew the brownies were his favourite.

That was how pathetic she was.

“Oh, sure,” she said brightly in a voice about five octaves higher than usual. “Thanks for your help.”

“Thanks for the coffee and brownies,” he countered. “This should be enough caffeine and sugar to make sure I don’t fall asleep at my desk.”

There was an awkward silence while Beth threw eggs haphazardly into the mixture and prayed he’d leave.

“Hey — I know Saturdays are usually boys’ poker night but—“

Beth froze.