The Gingerbread Bakery (Dream Harbor, #5)(37)

‘Let me see it,’ he said, inching toward the door.

‘No way.’

‘Come on, Annabelle. Let me see it.’

‘Don’t call me Annabelle, Macaulay.’

It was his turn to frown and Annie laughed at the reaction.

‘As the best man, it’s my duty to check the cake in advance.’

‘You’re still not the best man. And that is definitely not within the realm of groomsmen duties.’

Mac shrugged. ‘Logan didn’t want strippers so what else am I supposed to do?’

‘Of course he didn’t want strippers. The man didn’t even want frosting. It’s like he’s allergic to joy.’

Mac’s eyes lit up and Annie realized too late that she’d given away a vital piece of information.

‘Logan doesn’t like frosting?’ He stepped closer until they were both crowded in the doorway. ‘What did you make, Annie?’ Their breath mingled between them, creating their own little steam cloud. ‘Let me in.’ He held her gaze and it felt like he was asking for so much more than entrance to the bakery. His offer from earlier to try again ran through her mind.

‘Please,’ he added, his gaze flicking to her lips and back. Annie hesitated, her resolve weakening like it always did around this infuriating man.

The problem was, Annie hadn’t been lying earlier, not exactly. So maybe he hadn’t given her an orgasm but that didn't mean the sex hadn’t been good. It didn’t mean he hadn’t been sweet and tender with her for her first time. It didn’t mean she didn’t think about what sex could be like between them now. It was like her body had had sex with him eleven years ago, and her brain had kept it up ever since.

His head dipped closer to hers, his breath a welcome warmth on her face. Her eyes fluttered closed.

‘Please, Annie.’

She put a hand on his chest and relished the small hitch in his breath as she opened her eyes and saw it, the hunger in his eyes. Hunger mixed with hope. And she almost felt bad before she pressed that hand harder and shoved.

Mac skidded back in the snow, slipping and sliding but, much to Annie’s dismay, remaining upright.

The obnoxious smirk was back on his face by the time he got his footing, but the earnestness with which he’d said please was long gone.

‘Sorry, Mac, no strippers and no sneak peeks for you tonight. You should probably head home. Drive safe!’ Annie wiggled her fingers in a wave goodbye and was turning toward the door when Mac’s words stopped her in her tracks.

‘How are you going to move it into the van?’

Shit. He had her there.

‘You don’t want to ruin whatever it is you made, Annie. I know you don’t want to disappoint the bride and groom.’

Double shit.

Of course she didn’t want to disappoint the bride and groom. She'd spent the whole day trying desperately to make sure this wedding would go smoothly. What kind of monster wanted to disappoint the bride and groom? Annie quickly assessed her options. She could tell Mac to go to hell, which was what she really, really wanted to do, and then wrestle the very large, very delicate gingerbread house into the van herself and risk dropping the whole damn thing and ruining Jeanie’s secret gift to Logan or … she could let this asshole help her.

Ugh.

‘Fine,’ she said over her shoulder as she strode back into the bakery. ‘But I’m only doing this for Jeanie.’

She didn’t bother to turn around and heard Mac’s footsteps behind her as he followed her to the back room.

‘Shit.’ She rushed over to the gingerbread house. ‘These damn gables keep sliding off. I must have mixed the royal icing too thin,’ she muttered to herself as she went to repair the damage. ‘I just need to … a little bit more…’ She piped on more icing and almost had it … there. She stepped back to assess her work and collided with Mac’s firm chest.

He grabbed her upper arms, keeping her clutched tight against him.

‘It’s beautiful,’ he whispered. His voice was low and admiring in her ear.

Oh no, you don’t. Not ‘sweet’ Mac again.

‘Yeah, well,’ she said, squirming from his grasp. ‘The damn roof keeps falling apart.’

‘It doesn’t have to be perfect.’

She spun to face him. ‘Ha! It’s like you don’t even know me.’

Mac’s gaze bore into her, his eyes flicking down to her mouth again as though he was thinking about all the ways he did in fact know her. Annie’s face heated under his stare.

‘Of course I know you, Annabelle,’ he said, and she knew immediately that she was in danger. That was the worst part about all of this. He did know her. And that was the problem. He smiled smugly as he went on. ‘You’ve been working for days to get this house exactly right because you want it to be special for the people you love. And you’ve been doing it all while filling Christmas cookie orders for the entire town and fulfilling your bridesmaid duties which somehow included a manhunt, and if I know you, and I think I do, probably babysitting for half your nieces and nephews while your sisters go Christmas shopping. And every single one of these tasks you’ve put your whole heart into. And you want things to be perfect because you think being perfect shows people that you love them, and a little piece of you believes they would love you less if you weren’t.’