“Hey,” Jolene said when she opened the door to her apartment on Sunday afternoon. “I thought we were both going to be busy all weekend…” Her voice trailed off. “Also, why do you smell so yummy?” She leaned forward and sniffed me. “I’m having Shaun of the Dead thoughts right now, like I’m not 100 percent sure that I won’t bite you.”

I grinned and produced the still-warm-from-the-oven pastries from behind my back. “I’m a little offended that you thought I’d let Valentine’s Day come and go without, you know…” I gestured with the pastry.

Jolene leaned her hip against the doorframe, a sly smile curving her lips. “Adam Moynihan, did you bake for me?” She reached for the plate, but I moved it away. Her smile, if anything, grew bigger.

“Well, now, I don’t know. I spent hours over a hot stove making these for you, and—” I moved close to her, still keeping the plate out of reach “—FYI, they are so light and buttery that they literally melt in your mouth.” My gaze fell to her lips when I said that, and I didn’t blush even when I saw bright spots of color on her cheeks. “Maybe I should wait and see what you have for me before I hand them over.”

She glanced at the pastries. “Adam. A little credit, please.” Then she took the plate and left me in the hall and came back a minute later with a book in her hand.

A book by J.R.R. Tolkien with a bookmark stuck in it at slightly more than the halfway mark. 

“I’m still not loving it but I’m reading it. Well, not the songs, but everything else. For you. So we can talk about it next—”

I kissed her before she could finish speaking. 

-Excerpt from EVERY OTHER WEEKEND