Baking Me Crazy (Donner Bakery, #1)(60)

"Of course," he said, looking at me.

"Same," I said with a smile. One of my rules, from the day I met her, was that if I'd had a single drink, I'd never get behind the wheel of a car that would be carrying Joss anywhere. Even if a drunk driver hadn’t caused her paralysis, I'd heard enough stories. There wasn't a drink in the world worth having if I was driving.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat an entire side of beef right now," she said as soon as he left the table.

I grinned at her. "That so?"

"At the very least."

Instead of looking at the menu, I looked at her while her eyes tracked up and down each column of neatly typed letters.

Ripe summer blueberries blue.

Except for this time, I said it out loud without meaning to. She glanced up, forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What about blueberries?" She looked down again. "Where are blueberries?"

I swiped a hand over my mouth and felt the flush cover my cheeks. "Ahh, nothing."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes. "You look weird. Tell me."

"It's nothing."

"Levi."

Sinking back in my chair, I sighed heavily. "Fine. It's just … a weird thing I've done, and as soon as I say it out loud, you'll think I'm creepy."

Her grin made my heart turn over slowly. It was the kind of heart turn that was born from anticipation. Because now I could watch that grin unfold and see how it changed the shape of her lips.

"Tell me," she insisted. Joss set her chin in her hand and stared expectantly across the dimly lit table. She'd tried to tame her hair for our date, but it still sprung out of whatever knot she'd attempted to pin it back into.

I shook my head because it was too easy to sit there and pick apart all the separate things that I noticed, the things that I loved and wanted and had spent years trying not to stare at.

"Your eyes," I said. She blinked, straightening in her seat. I scratched the side of my face. "The first time we talked, I was trying to think of what kind of blue they were, and it just … became this thing in my head. Trying to come up with something I could compare it to."

Her face went soft. "Really?"

"If you make fun of me right now, you're buying your own steak."

Joss leaned forward and wove her fingers through mine. "Tell me what you came up with. Just one or two more."

"No way."

Her delighted laugh made me feel a little bit less embarrassed. A little.

"Oh, come on," she teased. "I can tell Joy, and she'll think it's so romantic."

But I saw the look in those blue eyes. She wasn't asking for Joy. She was asking for herself. Again, I had to remind myself that this was all new for Joss, not just because it was with me. She'd never had a boyfriend, given that she had been too young to date when she got sick.

I flipped her hand over and traced the lines on her palm and the length of each of her long, graceful fingers.

"The morning glories climbing up the sides of Mom's porch." I turned her hand over and reverently followed the path between each knuckle. "The tiles lining the pool we swam in." I rubbed the tip of my finger over the smooth bed of her nails, which she'd painted a delicate pink, and gave her a wry smile. "And there were a few bird comparisons thrown in there too."

She was quiet when I risked a glance at her face. I felt like an animal pinned to a display box.

"Creepy, right?" I said on an uncomfortable laugh.

Joss untangled her fingers from mine and slid her hand up my forearm. Gripping my shirt in her fist, she tugged me across the table with surprising strength. She lifted her chin and planted a hot, hard kiss on my lips. I was half standing, my hands braced on the neatly pressed tablecloth when she turned her head and slipped her tongue against mine in one devastating, slick slide. A few people around us were staring when I sat back down.

She looked satisfied.

I probably did too.

"So romantic," she whispered seriously.

"Are we ready to order?" our server asked when he approached the table. His cheeks were flaming, so he saw our little show.

Joss grinned at me, and I grinned back.

"We're going to need another few minutes," I told him, my eyes not leaving hers.





"So how does this work?" she asked me a couple of hours later. I held the door to my place open and went in after her.

"How does what work?" I walked around, flipping on the lamp next to the couch and the small light over the sink in the kitchen area.

She gestured to the couch. "Do I take my normal spot? Do we have new spots? Do I still get first dibs on viewing options? Because I wasn't done with Marie Kondo yet, no matter what you think of her."

I pointed a finger at her. "New rule. No cleaning shows on date night."

Joss laughed, locking her chair and shifting over to the couch. Her normal spot. My normal spot was on the other side. The throw pillow went under her side, and she punched it a few times until she got it exactly the way she wanted it.

I stood watching her, my hands propped on my hips.

She froze. "What?"

"That's not how it's gonna work."

Her eyebrow cocked up. "No?"