The Dare Collection: March 2018. Nicola Marsh

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time.’ He dusted his hands with flour and blew me a kiss, creating a tiny flour cloud in the air. ‘We’ve got an order to fill.’

      Speechless, I headed to my workstation, methodically working through the pastries I needed to make while trying not to sneak peeks at Tanner, who appeared to be an expert in laminating dough and creating the perfect croissant.

      I couldn’t believe it as he produced symmetrical and equal-sized croissants, filling two trays of fifty each.

      ‘One hundred enough?’ he asked, sliding the trays into the oven and setting the timer.

      ‘Yeah,’ I said, sounding a little awestruck. ‘Is there anything you can’t do?’

      ‘Climb the Harbour Bridge.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Afraid of heights.’

      ‘Well, lucky for me you’re not afraid of getting elbow deep in flour,’ I said, putting the finishing touches on the strawberry tartlets. ‘I can’t believe you made those croissants.’

      ‘I’m a man of many talents,’ he said, puffing out his chest in mock bravado. ‘As I’m sure you can attest to.’ He came up behind me and placed a kiss on the nape of my neck, sending a shiver of delight through me. ‘You’re pretty hot when you’re concentrating.’

      He pressed against me, showing me exactly how hot he found me, and I groaned, rubbing my butt against him.

      ‘Later,’ he growled, nipping at my neck, my earlobe, before seeking out my mouth for a quick peck. ‘I’ve already pissed off Remy enough this morning. Let’s not add to his distress by mucking up this order.’

      ‘You’ve already been to see him?’

      He came around the front of my workbench and I glimpsed worry in his eyes. ‘Yeah, visiting hours start at eight, I was there at seven.’

      ‘You told him about us?’

      He nodded, the grooves bracketing his mouth deepening. ‘It went as I expected. Him warning me off you, me reassuring him I wouldn’t hurt you.’

      ‘Then what’s the problem?’

      He hesitated before shaking his head. ‘No problem. My brother’s a worrywart, always has been. He thinks this may get more complicated than either of us anticipated.’

      I didn’t want to tell Tanner I agreed with Remy.

      Labelling Tanner the tattooed rebel as prime sex-toy material to purge my past had been fine at the start. But after having dinner with him last night, having him spend the night and now, watching him create incredible pastries like he did it every day of the week, I knew we were in serious danger of moving past a casual fling and into some nebulous, murky area I dared not label for making things complicated.

      ‘But right now, our only complication is who’s going to make the pains au chocolat, and if mine’s better than yours, what are you going to do about it?’

      I chuckled at his cockiness and jabbed a finger towards his workspace. ‘You get started on them, I’ll make the beignets.’

      ‘I love it when you’re bossy,’ he said, with a wink. ‘In and out of the bedroom.’

      Heat crept into my cheeks and I waved him away. ‘We’ve got three hours to get the rest of this order done. Let’s do it.’

      ‘And later tonight, we’ll do it for real,’ he said, his voice low and husky, making me yearn for him to bend me over and fill me in the way only he could.

      ‘Work first,’ I said, clearing my throat, my hands shaking a little as I reached for the flour.

      ‘Speaking of tonight, I’d like to take you out to dinner.’ He threw it out there, casual as you like, like asking me out on a date was an everyday occurrence. ‘Nothing fancy, but my favourite Thai place will soon become yours if you enjoy spicy Asian fusion.’

      ‘Sounds great, thanks.’

      How I managed to sound offhand, I’d never know, while inside I did whirls and sidekicks.

      ‘Pick you up at seven thirty?’

      ‘Okay.’

      We didn’t talk much after that, as we focussed on creating pastries worthy of the Le Miel name. But I was super aware of him working alongside me, the big, bad, baker boy, making delicate pastries with ease, making me crave him something fierce.

      Was there anything sexier than a man who knew his way around a kitchen? For me, no. I liked a guy confident with a bowl and spatula, a guy who could combine sugar, eggs and flour and create magic, a guy like Tanner.

      I liked Tanner. A lot. Today had solidified my feelings into one crazy, scary ball of longing deep inside.

      The way he’d pitched in, the way he’d made a potentially stressful situation fun, the way he’d taken charge, all incredibly attractive.

      But it was more than how he looked or how he behaved. Tanner was a good guy, despite doing his best to appear otherwise with the tats and the glower. He attracted me on some subliminal level I had no hope of analysing or explaining.

      I wanted Tanner. Perhaps for longer than our short-term fling. Which begged the question: What happened to me at the end of our arrangement when he didn’t want the same?

      I’d had the guts to walk away from my marriage and had been all set to walk away from Tanner with just as much nonchalance. Easy in theory, much harder in practice.

      I’d never wanted to make this difficult. I’d wanted a casual, fun fling to take the edge off my otherwise routine life. I’d wanted to experience steamy sex with a hot guy. But now that we’d potentially moved past that...I had to admit to being worried.

      I’d come so far in a year. I didn’t want a relationship where I could potentially revert to the meek, compliant woman who’d do anything to keep the peace and her partner happy.

      That kind of commitment scared me. I had my goals. If I had Tanner in my life for longer than a few weeks, would I lose sight of them? I didn’t want to find out.

      Remy had every right to be concerned.

      Tanner and I were one big complication waiting to happen.

      And there wasn’t one damn thing I could do about it.

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      Tanner

      ‘I DON’T BELIEVE THIS.’ I glared at the sign hanging in the window of my favourite Thai restaurant, announcing they were closed for renovations. ‘I didn’t even think to book because it’s one of those walk-in places that rarely requires a reservation.’

      ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Abby laid a hand on my arm. ‘We can eat anywhere.’

      True, but I’d wanted to show her a place that meant something to me, to see how she acted in the surroundings. Not a test, as such, just a way of convincing

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