Baking Me Crazy (Donner Bakery, #1)(29)

The cold liquid dripped down the front of my chest, and I swiped at it with a towel, glaring about as effectively as I could when my face was covered in goop. "You think this is funny?"

In answer, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. "There. My new lock screen."

Slowly, methodically, I mopped up as much as I could with the dish towel, then turned to her with a grin. "Is that so?"

She lowered her phone. "Don't you dare."

"What?" I asked, eyes wide. "This is your smoothie. I'd hate to keep it from you."

Joss started pushing her chair backward. "Levi Robert Buchanan," she warned as I advanced on her.

The speed with which she was able to pivot her chair always impressed me, but I was also ready for it. I leaped forward as she made the corner around the island and grabbed the back of her chair with one hand, which made her squeal.

Hunching over her for maximum surface coverage, I wiped the towel across her face and neck.

When her face was just as blueberry-banana soaked as mine, and I was laughing as breathlessly as she was, I finally took pity on her and straightened.

Joss turned her chair, wrapping one arm around her waist like she'd be able to contain the graceless sounds coming out of her mouth.

I never wanted them to stop.

With a smile so wide and bright, I couldn't even be sad about how she'd pinched her eyes shut and hid that perfect shade of blue from my view.

"It's so cold," she shrieked. Wiping at her cheeks, she only succeeded in spreading it farther up her face and into her pulled-back hair.

When I could breathe a bit more easily, I yanked off some paper towel, ran it under the faucet to get it wet and then crouched in front of her.

As I carefully wiped off her face, she was still grinning, but I felt my smile melt away.

There were so few opportunities for me to touch her like this. My thumb tilted her chin to the side so I could wipe off her cheek, the bottom curve of her delicate jawline. Underneath that one finger, her skin was soft and warm.

The tips of her lashes had purple on them.

"Close your eyes," I told her.

She complied, a smile still curling her lips. It was a full three seconds before I could move to do anything. I wanted to lean forward and capture those lips with mine, see if they were cold and sticky and sweet. I wanted her hands to dig into my hair and grab hold, her eyes to meet mine and flash with heat before I slid my tongue against hers and found out what her mouth tasted like.

I took a deep breath and wiped the damp paper towel over her closed eyelids to clean them off as gently I could with slightly shaking hands.

"By all means," she muttered, "take your time. I love having a smoothie facial."

Just because it would piss her off, and because I had no foolish intentions of wasting this opportunity, I slowed my movements even further, dragging the towel down the straight, proud line of her nose and over the arch of her cheekbone.

Some remained along the edge of her mouth, and I stared at it for three awkward chugs of my heart.

Buh—duh-boom.

Buh—duh-boom.

Buh—duh-boom.

Lowering the hand that held the paper towel, I used the edge of my thumb and dragged it slowly along the bottom edge of her lip until the purple was gone.

Her eyes snapped open, and her breathing picked up when I put my thumb into my mouth and sucked the tart liquid off.

"Delicious," I said quietly.

After a quick and sharp inhale, she narrowed her eyes in confusion. Then she blinked. "Sorry I scared you."

And just like that, the moment was over. I could see it in the smoothing of her face.

I stood and tossed the paper towel into the trash. "No, you're not."

"You're right," she said around another grin. "I'm totally not. That was the highlight of my week." Her hands waved in the direction of my face and hair. "You've still got a little … everywhere."

Sighing, I grabbed more paper towel and wet it in the sink. "I'm sure I do."

"I didn't think you'd actually make me a smoothie."

Lifting my eyebrow as best as I could while trying to scrub the drying liquid out of it, I gave her a look.

Joss held up her hands. "Okay, fine, I figured you'd make me one. I just didn't think you'd jump like a bobcat was standing behind you."

"Oh no," I drawled, "not a bobcat. Just a sneaky little hedgehog."

She smirked. "You might as well go take a shower."

"Another shower," I clarified with a mock glare, which made her chuckle. I glanced down at my chest, the shirt I decided to don at the last moment splattered with the mess. With one hand, I yanked at my T-shirt behind my head and tore it off.

Joss was looking at her phone when the shirt cleared my head, but the tops of her cheeks had reddened. Disrobing in front of each other wasn't exactly our norm.

"What about you?" I asked her.

Her eyes trekked up the front of my chest slowly, but her face was blank when it met mine. "What about me what?"

"Do you need a shower?"

The sides of her lips twitched. "Do you happen to have a shower chair just lying around in case of emergency?"

Embarrassment had my face heating. Of all the accommodations I'd made for Joss so she could be in our home easily, showering was not one of the things I'd had to think about. But it made sense that she wouldn't be able to hold herself steady long enough to shower.