When Alec opened the door, Violet stood in the doorway with flour, sugar, and eggs balanced in her arms. She felt more than a little bit frazzled, but she made it, and that’s all that counted, at least in her sleep-deprived mind. She should have canceled or postponed their muffin baking party, but when she thought about seeing him today, her body buzzed with excitement.
“Let me take that,” Alec said, scooping everything out of her arms and smiling at her in a way that made the butterflies in her stomach come alive.
“Tell me you have butter.” She walked into the apartment and dropped onto the couch, letting her head fall backwards.
“I do.” Alec set the ingredients on the table. “Why?”
“We need butter for the muffins, but I didn’t have any and I didn’t have time to stop at the grocery store. I woke up less than an hour ago or I would’ve been more prepared.” She stretched her legs out onto the coffee table. Maybe Alec would do the majority of the baking while she closed her eyes for a few more moments.
“Late night?” he asked. She heard his refrigerator open and close.
“Something like that,” she mumbled.
“Did you go out after tutoring Dean?”
She opened her eyes. “If spending the night in the emergency room is considered going out, then I went out.”
“What?” He walked toward her, his eyes drifting over her body, inventorying every detail. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, not me. Dean’s sister. She had a really high fever and it didn’t go down after I gave her medicine. I finally decided to take her to the hospital.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging her. “Is she okay?” His voice was low and sexy and she felt her sleepy haze dissolving under his touch.
“Yes. She has the flu, but she’ll be fine in a week or less.”
“Good.”
He started to pull his hands away, but she clasped her hand around his wrist. “Just a couple more minutes. That feels good.” As her head fell forward, she let out a little moan when he dug into a particularly tight spot and then moved down her arms in a delicious sweep.
“About these muffins,” he said. To her dismay, he dropped his hands from her shoulders. She already mourned the loss of his touch. He was unraveling her defenses one by one and she couldn’t even remember why wanting him was a bad idea.
“What about them?”
“I have a feeling I’m going to be making them by myself today.”
Tipping her head back so she could see his face, she nibbled on her lower lip as she took in his dark blue eyes. She’d never seen anything like them. In comparison, every other pair of blue eyes she’d seen looked washed out next to his indigo irises. She loved the way they changed from icy to fiery within seconds depending on his mood. “I can help.”
He sucked his lip ring into his mouth. “How about I do the cooking and you direct from the kitchen table? I’ve never made muffins before.”
“You’re making me feel bad. I roped you into picking the berries, making the muffins, and now I’m not going to help.”
He brushed her hair away from her neck and leaned forward so his lips were only inches from her ear. She tried and failed to hold back a shiver. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
“Yes?” she asked, her voice cracking on the word.
“I don’t mind cooking. In fact, my friends call me the food Nazi all the time because I’m really particular about cooking and eating.” His warm breath seeped into her pores, making her feel a little giddy, or maybe that was just her lack of sleep. She hoped it was the latter because feeling anything for Alec was certifiably insane. He had warning signs flashing all over him like his dark tattoos, the scar running through his eyebrow, and his hooded eyes that were both alluring and foreboding at the same time. He was temptation incarnate and she wouldn’t succumb to his charm. Look, don’t touch, she reminded herself. She didn’t need a man in her life right now. She only had to look at her track record with her last few boyfriends. It never worked. She didn’t have time for a relationship.
“What do you mean by really particular?” she asked, swiveling to face him.
“I like to be in control so I probably wouldn’t have let you help anyway.”
“Are you sure?” She smirked as her eyes swept the length of him with his faded gray t-shirt, dark jeans, and bare feet. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin, as though he didn’t care what other people thought about him. They could take him or leave, but he wouldn’t change for anyone. She liked that about him.