Free Love Takes the Cake by Betsy St. Amant Page A

She’s part time at the bakery and helps me out with Zoe when I need it.” Charlotte tucked her hair behind her ears, eyes bright even in the dimness of the truck cab. She always lit up when talking about something—or someone—important to her. Her theory was right—eyes don’t lie. “She’s my best friend.”
    â€œThat’s great you get to work together.” He gestured toward the apartment. “So, did she give you a curfew?” He hoped midnight. Though he doubted Charlotte would turn into a pumpkin or however that fairy tale went. And the whole “left her shoe” behind thing was a genius way to get a guaranteed call back from the prince. Too bad he and Charlotte were in his truck tonight, or he might try to play the same card.
    Because right now, he couldn’t imagine waiting until next Tuesday at 5:40 to see Charlotte again.
    â€œShe didn’t say.” Charlotte glanced at the clock on his dashboard. “It’s not quite ten o’clock yet.”
    â€œThen there’s plenty of time to ask you a question.” He leaned toward her, unable to resist the magnetic pull she had on him since the first moment he stepped into The Dough Knot and saw her in that cute little apron.
    â€œWhat question?” Her hand brushed his on the truck seat, and their fingers threaded together as if they’d had a lifetime of practice.
    â€œA very important one.” His eyes lowered to her lips, pink and glossy, and a hint of color flushed her cheeks to match.
    â€œImportant how?” She lifted her chin a notch, eyes expectant. Waiting.
    He leaned an inch closer, his voice deepening. His heart started a stampede in his chest. “Important to me.”
    Her dark lashes fluttered shut.
    He shouldn’t do this. It was their first date. But it felt as if he’d known her his entire life. As if all those weeks of small talk at the bakery had counted as dates leading up to this moment. He had no intention of wasting this moment or attempting to recreate it later. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to live right now. With Charlotte.
    He pressed his lips against hers.
    She kissed him back, her grip on his hand tightening. He used it to pull her closer on the bench seat, then cupped his hand around her neck and deepened their kiss. Her free hand clutched the front of his shirt, wrinkling the green button-down he’d spent fifteen minutes ironing earlier that evening.
    He didn’t mind.
    She broke away first, turning to press her cheek against his and catch her breath. “That wasn’t a question.”
    It had most definitely been a statement. He grinned, rubbing his cheek against hers before pulling away to look her in the eyes. “I was just going to ask if I could kiss you.”
    She studied him a second. “No you weren’t. You had a real question, and you got sidetracked.”
    She’d nailed that one. His eyes couldn’t lie, either, apparently. He grinned back, wanting to kiss her again. He leaned forward to do just that, but she pressed her palm flat against his chest and held him off. “Wait a second. What’s the real question?”
    He stole a quick peck on her cheek anyway. “Brittany and Adam’s couple’s shower is coming up. And I want you to come.”
    â€œI have to, silly. I’m delivering the cookie cake, remember?”
    She was even more adorable when confused. He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear before she could do it first. “I know. I mean, I want you to come with me. As my date.”
    It would completely throw Adam for a loop after their conversation the other day at the gym, but he’d explain ahead of time what had changed, if need be. His friend would be happy for him.
    Hopefully, Melissa would be too.
    His exuberance dimmed slightly. Melissa. He had put the guilt out of his head all this time, wrapped up in the joy of this . . . this thing