Not to mention, that morning when I went into work late one of Tori Taylor’s people, who happens to be local, stopped in before I arrived. I missed my chance to make a good impression—or any impression at all, really.

And of course that same person ended up at Ronan’s, because he’s in the competition, too—only Ronan made it to the bar in time. I might find him attractive, but I don’t want to lose out on any other opportunities, should they arise.

It doesn’t mean we’re not flirting, or that I don’t find myself staring at his mouth, wondering how his lips would feel on mine.

It just means I’ve been circumventing the potential for further complications and excessive distractions. Until this Best Bar competition is over and done with and we see what the impact of this whole Dick and Bobby’s grand opening has on our respective bottom lines, I don’t think it’s a great idea to jump into his bed. Or jump him in general.

I do think about it frequently when I’m in the shower, and in my own bed. And everywhere, really.

“Earth to Blaire.” Daphne snaps her fingers in my face. At the same time her camera goes off.

I jerk back. “What?”

“You were totally thinking about boning Ronan just now, weren’t you?”

“I was not!”

“You definitely were. Look at the expression on your face!” She holds up her phone so I can see the picture she took.

I’m biting my lip and touching my throat, lost in a daydream. About riding Ronan. I push her phone away. “Whatever. Thinking about it and doing it aren’t the same thing.”

Daphne wiggles her eyebrows. “I give you max two weeks before you fold.”

Fortunately, Callie arrives for her shift, ending that conversation.

During the lead-up to New Year’s Eve I average about four hours of sleep a night, and it sure as hell isn’t the restful kind. On the upside, the cohosted events with Ronan have been keeping me from digging further into my line of credit. It’s a little less terrifying to pay the bills when I know I’m not turning my overdraft into a black hole every time or adding to my debt.

New Year’s planning means lots of expenses, but ticket sales for the event have been incredible and we sold out completely last week, which helps offset all the costs.

On New Year’s Eve, I’m up before six in the morning even though I went to bed at two. Ronan and I sat at his bar and went over the plan for tonight, double and triple checking that we have everything we need. Our cohosted New Year’s party has been getting a lot of attention and rumor has it Tori Taylor is planning to come our way soon as the semifinal round closes in.

When I arrive at B&B, I notice that Ronan’s truck is already there, which seems a lot early for him. Imagine my surprise when I walk into my shop and find Ronan behind the bar, making cappuccinos. “What’re you doing here?”

He glances at me, eyes moving over me in that familiar way that makes a shiver run down my spine and heat pool south of the navel. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry. It’s just a surprise to see you here at this hour.” Ronan usually doesn’t roll in until nine thirty or ten. “Oh God, nothing happened next door? We don’t have another wrong delivery, do we?”

Ronan wipes his hands on his apron—he’s wearing one with the B&B logo; actually, it’s mine because it has the cupcake with the crown decoration—and wraps his hands around my arms. “Take a deep breath, Blaire. You look like you’re on the verge of panic, and there is absolutely nothing to be worried about.”

Over the past few weeks I’ve grown accustomed to Ronan’s touch. The way he casually slings his arm over my shoulder. The frequent occasions where he picks me up and moves me out of the way when I’m ranting about something and he wants to multitask. And although I’m accustomed to it, I’m definitely not immune. I clear my throat before I speak; otherwise I’m liable to sound all breathy. “It’s barely eight in the morning. How are you here and did you even sleep last night?” His hands slide down my arms and I fight a shiver.

He shrugs, looking sheepish. “I got a few hours. I plan to sleep all day tomorrow. I borrowed Daphne’s key. I figured you might need some help this morning since you likely went to bed around the same time as me.”

“Oh, well that’s incredibly sweet of you. I’m going to sleep all the sleeps tomorrow, too. It’s going to be magic.” I fight a yawn.

His eyes widen comically. “Oh no! Don’t do that! They’re contagious.” We both cup our hands over our mouths and yawn at the same time. My eyes water. Lord, I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow.

A loud clank and hiss comes from behind him and we both startle.

“What the heck?” I grab on to his arm and hide behind him as he spins around.

I peek over his shoulder and get a glimpse of the cappuccino maker, which is currently steaming in places it shouldn’t be.

“Oh shit, that doesn’t look right.” His expression reflects his horror.

“That’s because it’s not.” I move around him, pulling the plug before it blows.

Ronan helps me clean up the mess. It turns out one of the seals has broken, so we’re down a freaking cappuccino maker. I call around frantically, looking to see if someone can come in and fix it today. While we can usually get by with one machine, it’s going to be busy tonight.

I manage to find someone who can come in this afternoon, but of course it’s going to cost me a freaking arm and a leg. Ronan apologizes profusely, obviously feeling bad about it. I assure him it wasn’t his fault, and that it’s just crap timing.

The morning flies by; people working half-days stop in to grab a quick bite, orders are picked up for events, and by the time two rolls around we’re almost completely sold out, which is great because it means little in the way of cleanup before we set up for tonight.

The cappuccino maker is fixed, thankfully, before three in the afternoon, and a test run indicates that it’s back in working order.

By three thirty B&B is ready for the evening, tables set up to display tiers of dessert cupcakes, glittery decorations everywhere, a perfect complement to the beer and champagne theme. Everything is gold and black and sparkly and beautiful.

I stand in the middle of the shop with my hands on my hips. “I think it looks perfect. What do you think?”