Melt the chocolate chips, butter, and peanut butter together, like how everything melted when you fell in love with Chase. Stir frequently to avoid burning. Yes, you were worried about this before, but now there’s something bigger at stake.

Stir vanilla, flour, sugar, eggs, baking soda, and salt into the chocolate mixture. Pour batter into baking dish. This is the brand-new blend, and nothing is separated anymore. Time to accept that love and friendship and sex and happiness have all come together.

Bake brownies in the preheated oven until ready. Cool to room temperature before cutting into squares. Serve to the one guy you want—the one you hope wants you the same way.

* * *

I look up from the paper and at my girl.

She’s mine.

“Does this mean I can have the brownie now and eat it, too?”

A naughty glint flickers in her eyes, and lust clambers through me. I half want to kick myself for not telling her I loved her sooner, but I know we came to this on our terms, in the right time, once the friendship alone was no longer enough.

I reach inside the bag, break off a corner of the treat, and eat it. I moan in culinary delight. “This is the second-best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“What’s first?”

I curl my hand around her head. “You.”

Then I kiss her, and she’s everything I missed, everything I want, and everything I love.

She kisses me back with a tenderness and a fierceness that I now know comes from her whole heart. Josie’s always given all of herself, even when she tried to hold back. I once thought I could keep everything in separate drawers, but maybe I’m not that different from her after all.

This blend the two of us have going on is pretty damn good. I like life better when we’re together.

Right now there’s something I’d like even more, and that's all of her.

I break the kiss and glance around the shop. “How many health codes would we break if we got it on at this place?”

She smiles. “Come to my office.”

I wiggle my eyebrows as she locks the front door. “I like the sound of that.”

Taking my hand, she guides me to a cubicle in the back. She perches on the edge of a desk that’s covered in papers and envelopes, presumably invoices and bills. She pulls me close, and I slam my mouth to hers, kissing her hard and rough, the kind of kiss that leads to only one thing.

Soon, I lift her skirt, tug down her panties, and slide inside.

Her name is a dirty growl on my lips. “Josie. I fucking love you.”

She draws me impossibly closer and whispers in my ear, “I fucking love you, too. And, yes, it was always that way for me, too.”

We’re fast, and we’re frenzied, and soon we’re both over the edge.

After, I help her close the bakery for the night and we head for the door. “Wait.” I stop at the table. “I have a gift for you, too.”

I hand her the flowers. “You might be thinking, ‘He’s not very creative, since he gave me these before.’ But last time I gave you flowers, you said they’d make our place cheery. This time I got them for you because I want to live with you again. In a new place. Just for us. One you can make cheery with these flowers.” Her eyes seem to sparkle as she waits for me to say more. “Would you like to live with me again? As my girlfriend?”

She takes my hand. “I would love to.”

Epilogue

Five months later

* * *

The apartment hunt didn’t last long this time.

Nothing was cursed. No one was crazy. I didn’t have to sell a spleen or a kidney, either.

As it turns out, all I had to do was remove a piece of a chandelier from a guy’s forehead and then stitch it up without a trace.

Kevin hooked me up. Who knew that one day Aquaman would stumble into my ER with a three-inch shard of glass in his forehead, and a beautiful bond would form. I’d fix his face and send him on the path to safer sexcapades. He would wind up engaged and return the favor by connecting me with some of his real estate contacts. One of his real estate guys found a one-bedroom for us in Chelsea that costs an arm and a leg. But somehow we’re making it all work, doing our best every day.

Josie’s bakery is thriving. Her afternoon specials have lured in many new customers, and they’re loving her mini cinnamon buns, the chocolate peanut butter brownies, the candy sushi, and even the grapefruit macarons. Nothing with raisins, though. Thank the Lord.

But tonight, she’s not cooking.

I am.

Not gonna lie. Cooking has never been my forte. But learning has. I tracked down some recipes, watched a few videos, practiced a couple of times, and now I’m making her dinner.

I whip up the pasta primavera I’ve planned for the menu. It’s a simple dish, but it’s her favorite, and seeing as she treats me like a king in the kitchen, I want to treat her like a queen.

When she walks in the door to our home, she lifts her nose high and inhales. “Mmm,” she says in a sexy purr. “Smells good. Somebody’s getting lucky tonight.”

I leave the kitchen, wrap an arm around her waist, and kiss her. “Had I only known cooking dinner was the way to get in your pants, I’d have done it sooner.”

She laughs and drops another kiss on my lips. “Can you imagine? You’d be getting it three times a day instead of once or twice.”

Yeah, we’re regulars.

Every night. Sometimes every morning, too, even though we rarely get out of bed at the same time. But that doesn’t hinder the pursuit of orgasms, since synchronized wake-up calls aren’t necessary for sleepy morning sex, and that’s a habit we both enjoy.