QUOTE : I sprinkle some flour on the dough and roll it out with the heavy, wooden rolling pin. Once it’s the perfect size and thickness, I flip the rolling pin around and sing into the handle—American Idol style.<br /><br />“Calling Gloriaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa . . .”<br /><br />And then I turn around.<br /><br />“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”<br /><br />Without thinking, I bend my arm and throw the rolling pin like a tomahawk . . . straight at the head of the guy who’s standing just inside the kitchen door.<br /><br />The guy I didn’t hear come in.<br /><br />The guy who catches the hurling rolling pin without flinching—one-handed and cool as a gorgeous cucumber—just an inch from his perfect face.<br /><br />He tilts his head to the left, looking around the rolling pin to meet my eyes with his soulful brown ones. “Nice toss.”<br /><br />Logan St. James.<br /><br />Bodyguard. Totally badass. Sexiest guy I have ever seen—and that includes books, movies and TV, foreign and domestic. He’s the perfect combo of boyishly could-go-to-my-school kind of handsome, mixed with dangerously hot and tantalizingly mysterious. If comic-book Superman, James Dean, Jason Bourne and some guy with the smoothest, most perfectly pitched, British-Scottish-esque, Wessconian-accented voice all melded together into one person, they would make Logan fucking St. James.<br /><br />And I just tried to clock him with a baking tool—while wearing my Rick and Morty pajama short-shorts, a Winnie-the-Pooh T-shirt I’ve had since I was eight and my SpongeBob SquarePants slippers.<br /><br />And no bra.<br /><br />Not that I have a whole lot going on upstairs, but still . . .<br /><br />“Christ on a saltine!” I grasp at my chest like an old woman with a pacemaker.<br /><br />Logan’s brow wrinkles. “Haven’t heard that one before.”<br /><br />Oh fuck—did he see me dancing? Did he see me leap? God, let me die now.<br /><br />I yank on my earbuds’ cord, popping them from my ears. “What the hell, dude?! Make some noise when you walk in—let a girl know she’s not alone. You could’ve given me a heart attack. And I could’ve killed you with my awesome ninja skills.”<br /><br />The corner of his mouth quirks. “No, you couldn’t.”<br /><br />He sets the rolling pin down on the counter.<br /><br />“I knocked on the kitchen door so I wouldn’t frighten you, but you were busy with your . . . performance.”<br /><br />Blood and heat rush to my face. And I want to melt into the floor and then all the way down to the Earth’s core.