Drop, Cover, and Hold On (The Improbable Meet-Cute, #4)

by Jasmine Guillory

“I wasn’t giving everyone free stuff. I was giving you free stuff. Because I fell for you that first moment I heard you laugh that day.”

“And I remember what you said that day. I’ve thought about it an embarrassing number of times every day ever since then,” he said. “First you said, ‘I’ve been looking forward to the opening of this bakery like it was the Super Bowl or something.’ That’s when you laughed. And that’s when I looked at you and saw that glow on your face and that sparkle in your eyes. And then you said, ‘Oh my God, look at that row of pastries; this is like porn for me,’ and you laughed again. And that’s when I had to look away from you, because you saying that made me imagine so many things that I should not be imagining on opening day for my brand-new business. I guess I gave you a dirty look when I did. I didn’t mean to—my face just does that sometimes.”

“I hope you have a good idea, because right now I’m sitting here, alone in my bakery with the woman of my dreams on Valentine’s Day, with a box full of pastries that I saved for her in the hope that she would come in today and they’d be waiting—”

You usually come in Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so I thought I’d see you today. At least, I hoped so.”

“I can’t believe—” “That I noticed?” He gave her that scornful look that she’d hated so much before today. “I notice everything about you, especially which pastries you like the best. So I put all of those in this box for you. But you didn’t come in when you usually do, and I thought you weren’t coming in at all. And I felt so stupid, especially since I actually shouldn’t even be here today. Some celebrity ordered a wedding cake from us, and I should have flown out there with the cake to supervise the last-minute decorations, but instead I sent Ella, so I could be here, just in case.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I just admitted that out loud. Anyway, I guess that was my plan, to give you some of your favorite pastries on Valentine’s Day and hope that—”

He took the second print from her. “Did you . . . um, were you . . . were we . . . going to do something in this bed?” She took the third print off the wall. She usually didn’t jump into bed with someone this quickly. Not because she thought there was anything wrong with it, but mostly because it usually took her a while to decide if she trusted another person with her body and her emotions. She’d tried having casual sex when she was younger, but after too much heartache, she realized that she always caught feelings. She had to give herself time to decide if someone was worth her feelings before she slept with them.

She didn’t know why she already knew that Harris was. But she did.