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paying attention to their impressive growth numbers. Instead, he kept going back to Saturday night and Sunday morning.
    He’d woken up alone, dressed in the most uncomfortable way possible, with a stiff back and the scent of Kate in bed, which had made him hard as marble.
    Then he’d realized he was lying on Kate’s old, frilly pink bed. Which he’d apparently decided to take over during the night while on a semidrunken spree.
    Damn.
    He’d immediately texted her Sunday morning, and even now, he kept glancing at his phone, replaying their conversation.

    Sorry for crashing in last night.

    You mean that was you? That’s all right, at least u didn’t break anything.

    But my pride. And my back.

    Ouch. Ok, but it’s nothing my muffins won’t cure .

    Holy hell. Was she flirting with him?

    I’m going to savor every bite.

    He wasn’t sure if he’d been flirting, too. Savor every bite. The alcohol had still been running through his system, clearly messing up his head. Thank God Kate hadn’t replied after that last one. But she’d sent a dozen muffins this morning and he had gobbled three up with barely a drink of coffee. His experience with Kate’s food was almost sexual.
    He couldn’t help it; it had always been like this since the beginning.
    The first time she’d made chocolate-chip cookies on her own, Garrett had been fresh out of bed on a Sunday in his randy teen years. He’d been scouring the kitchen for breakfast and had shoved a warm cookie into his mouth, nodding when she’d asked if it was good. Then Kate had laughingly stepped up and brushed a crumb from the side of his mouth, and he’d almost swallowed the cookie whole.
    Sometimes he waited until he was alone to eat her stuff. And he imagined he was licking her fingers when he wrapped his tongue around her sugary frostings. And when they had little sprinkles, he pictured her freckles.
    He really should look into therapy.
    Suddenly he heard Landon sigh and slap his copy of the report shut, and he was jerked back to the present.
    “So if your brother is still not aware of our plans,” he asked Cassandra, “why are you chickening out on selling?” The chair creaked as he leaned back, folding his arms over his chest.
    Cassandra Clarks may have had the appearance of a blonde bombshell, but behind that “bimbo” facade, Garrett had learned, there was actually a brain. The woman was not only smart, but about as flexible on her terms as a damned wall.
    Today she exuded casual confidence, slowly shaking her head as Landon explained his position.
    “We’re supposed to keep buying the stock until we get over twenty percent,” Landon told her. “In a week, two at most, your brother’s company will be ours before he even realizes we’re in bed with him. No pun intended.”
    “None taken,” Cassandra said, eyeing Landon judiciously as she finally stopped shaking her head and allowed him to continue.
    “Once we secure your remaining thirty-two percent, it puts us in control, and it leaves you a very wealthy woman, Cassie.”
    “That’s the problem. My brother will know I sold to you. He will destroy me and anything else I have,” she said, her entire countenance clouded with worry. “What I wanted to propose to Garrett on Saturday before he cut me short was a marriage of convenience. My brother has control of my stake in the company now, but if I marry, he won’t have control over financial decisions regarding my stake anymore. My husband can take over the shares and compensate me discreetly. It would be an easy arrangement, and over in six months, where we’ll both happily walk away with what we want. Me with my money, you with the stock.”
    Garrett remained silent as he absorbed the proposal.
    He met Cassandra’s gaze unflinchingly, the ambitious businessman in him wanting to say yes. But in his mind, he went back to waking up to Kate’s scent on the pillow, to the memory of somehow holding her in his arms.
    He tugged at the collar of