Page 27 of Offside Rules

"A couple of weeks. I need to get her looked at. I’m aware."

"I wasn’t going to lecture you." He rests his mug on the counter. "I could drive."

I stop with the measuring cups in my hand. "Drive Sprinkles? To my deliveries? Why?"

"I’ll drive and carry the boxes. That way you can sort for the next drop-off."

"You don’t have hockey practice today?"

"We have the day off. I usually hit the gym with the guys, but I can go later."

"I can do my own deliveries, Wolf." I set the cups down a little harder than I mean to. "I do them every morning."

"I get it. You just said this morning’s going to take longer, and you want to be here for the inspection. You can check the orders while I drive and have the boxes ready when we stop." He picks up his coffee again. "If you want help, I have time."

I look at the clock. I still have to go downstairs, get the cupcakes out to the truck, load them, and pray the engine starts before I lose another ten minutes. But letting him drive means sitting in the same truck as him for the entire route. He’s already given me his kitchen. This feels like one too many. I shouldn’t accept.

"I grew up in my dad’s mechanic shop," he adds. "I might be able to hear what’s going on with the engine while I’m your getaway driver."

"Getaway driver?" I laugh before I can help it. "That’s not exactly what we’re doing."

A smile spreads across his face. "Depends how fast you want to leave each stop. I think in another life I was an F1 driver."

"Doesn’t every red-blooded male think that?"

"Probably." He lifts his cup and takes a sip of coffee.

"I’d prefer all the cupcakes arrive with the frosting still on them."

"Then I’ll drive very responsibly. If Sprinkles cooperates, we’ll get back in time for the inspector."

I hate that he has a point. Missing that appointment means more time without a kitchen, and I can’t keep asking Ellie to squeeze me in around her catering orders.

He sets his coffee down, pulls out his phone, and starts texting.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Texting Olsen. He has a key. If the truck holds us up, he can let the inspector in."

I look at the clock again. "Okay. But just this morning. That’s it. And I handle the customers."

"Good thinking. I wouldn't want to steal your job with my charm and quick wit." He puts his mug down. "I’ll get my shoes."

I finish putting the equipment away while he goes down the hall. Apparently, I’ve just hired myself a six-foot-five delivery assistant. My brother would have plenty to say about that. None of it would be helpful, and most of it would be loud.

By the time Wolf comes back with his keys and phone, I’m rinsing my mug. He drinks the rest of his coffee and leaves the mug beside the sink, then holds the front door while I push the empty cart into the hallway.

Downstairs, he stays by my apartment door while I bring out the trays I baked at Ellie’s. I’m grateful he doesn’t ask about the kitchen. I still need to take pictures for the insurance company, and I’d rather not look at the hole before I’ve had breakfast.

We get the cupcakes into the cart, and he follows me down to the garage. Sprinkles is parked near the elevator, pink paint and sprinkle decals looking far more cheerful than I feel. Wolf stops beside the driver’s door and looks up at her name across the side.

"She’s hard to miss."

"That’s the idea." I open the back and secure the trays before coming around to the front. He’s waiting beside the door, and I stand there with the keys in my hand. "I’ll tell you where to go."

"Okay." He holds out his hand, and I give him the keys.

It’s a truck. I’m letting him drive a truck. This shouldn’t feel like something I need to explain to my entire family. At the very least, I’d prefer not to be thinking about Beau while I hand Wolf the keys. Putting my life in this man’s hands. But I have an eight o’clock inspection, cupcakes to deliver, and possibly someone who can diagnose my truck's internal issues. For one morning, I can accept that.