“It isn’t often I’m thrown into a good memory of my mom,” he admitted.

More often than not he thought about the bitter ones of his dad and his lack of attention, his many wives, and losing the one parent who loved him unconditionally.

“Do you know the key ingredient that differentiates a Snickerdoodle from a sugar cookie?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.” That memory escaped him.

“Cream of Tartar. It’s a leavening agent that gives the cookie its signature tangy flavor and chewy texture.”

“She made them every Christmas,” he said, hearing his own wistful tone. “We left them out for Santa.”

Emily smiled at his memory. “I’ll make them for you one day if –“ She shook her head.
If you’re still here went unsaid.

“Can I take this to mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked, leaning in on one arm.
She poured the brownie mix into the pan and sighed. “I was never mad at you. At first I was just scared to death. Then I was frustrated with dad and the situation. You being here, supporting his dream doesn’t help. But I’m not angry at you.”

The heaviness in his chest eased. But he was going to throw her an even more difficult question. He wasn’t sure if he expected an answer and given he didn’t know if he could answer in return, it wasn’t exactly fair.

“Okay then, good. What about before we came back? Are you still running from what we felt?”

She’d stuck a chocolate covered finger into her mouth and at the question, her eyes opened wide. The question had been bad timing on his part because his dick hardened at the sight of that finger in her mouth. He wanted her lips wrapped around his cock.

But, they had important things to discuss. “Running?” she asked on a squeak.

He pushed himself to standing and strode around the island, coming up to her and pushing her back against the counter. “Running,” he confirmed. “Not physically but emotionally.”

“I can’t let myself get too attached to you, Parker. You’re leaving. Sooner not later. Just because we don’t discuss it doesn’t make it not true. I need to protect myself.”

Her words sliced through him because they were true. Because he hated them. Because she was right and he didn’t want her to be. So he did the only thing he could do in the moment.

“But we have now.”