“She didn’t ask you what you wanted,” I commented, watching the petite beauty saunter away.
Hearing Chase laugh always warmed a part of me, but I had no idea why he was doing it now. He casually stretched across the table to take my hand and play with my fingers. “She doesn’t have to ask. She knows I’m going to want whichever cake or confection she’s made. And I mean that literally. She’s a baking genius, and she plays with recipes and makes them her own. It’s great.” He gave a happy sigh.
“I’m sure it is. I’ll have to steal a bite.”
Chase’s smile grew tender. “You don’t have to steal. Whatever I have is yours.”
My breath caught for a second. It was too soon for him to mean that like I thought he did. Really too soon. But Chase was looking at me so intently, his face serious even with the tender smile, that I didn’t know any other way to take it. He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingertips.