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“Hey, you own Barnett’s Bottles next door, right?” Mitch interrupted.
Mrs. Barnett’s anger dissipated. “Yes. Gabrielle Barnett, widowed…and you are Mitch Jameson, the local hero doctor everyone talks about all the time.”
Oh jeez.
Mitch laughed. “I don’t know about that. However,you…your reputation precedes you. I hear you make the best coconut-infused massage oils on the west coast.”
Mrs. Barnett giggled—actually giggled—the letter from Not Just Desserts completely forgotten. Jessica wanted to reach across the counter and kiss Mitch.
“I don’t want to brag, but I do get a lot of customers who say it’s the best they’ve tried. I mix different natural ingredients to create a line that meets any of your massage needs. My MintoCoco really soothes aching muscles.” She eyed his forearms resting on the counter. “If you’d like a demonstration of it, I could set up the massage chair…”
Oh my God! Jessica wasn’t sure which was worse, angry Gabrielle or flirty Gabby.
“Actually, that sounds amazing, but it’s not for me,” Mitch said smoothly. “My mom’s sciatica is back, so I thought it would make a nice gift for her. Could you package up several bottles for me, with anything else you can recommend, and I’ll stop by to pay once I leave here?”
Mrs. Barnett nodded, touching his shoulder. “Such a wonderful son, looking after his mom. I’ll give you my special discount.”
She looked ready to give him more than a discount, and Jessica shuddered. “Thank you for that,” she said after Mrs. Barnett left the bakery.
“No problem, but do you mind me asking what she was so fired up about?”
Jessica sighed, checking the clock on the wall. She’d much rather spill her problems to the hottest man to walk into her bakery in years, but she still had cakes that needed to be decorated, boxed, and out the door within the hour.
“Sorry…raincheck? I’m swamped.” She paused. “Actually…” Reaching under the counter, she grabbed a plastic cake stencil and a bag of icing she’d been using to pipe elf faces on some shortbread cookies that morning. “I’ll tell you the story, but you need to help me catch up.”
His eyes widened. “Oh…um…” He checked his watch. “I’ve got dinner…”
“The rest of your order’s not ready yet. Write ‘Happy Birthday,’” she said, nodding toward the stencil.
An amused smile spread across his face as he climbed off of the stool and rolled his dress shirt sleeves higher. “That’s it? That’s the challenge?” Mitch rotated his shoulders and bent over the stencil.
Jessica stared at his face as he worked, his look of concentration zapping every last ounce of hers. Having him in her kitchen might slow things instead of speeding them up.
“Do I pass?” he asked.
Jessica studied the slightly off-center script lettering. It was readable and time was ticking. “It will have to do,” she said, lifting the section of the counter to give him access to the employee area.
“I’m hired?”
“You’ve volunteered. Donating your time to a cause. That’s your thing, right?” She handed him an apron and waited for him to refuse the Christmas-themed, ruffled fabric.
Instead, he took it and slid it over his head, which only made him the most insanely attractive man on earth. “You think you have me figured out, huh?”
“Don’t I?” This felt like flirting. Was this flirting? Should she be flirting? Did she have time to flirt?
“No act of selflessness is completely altruistic,” he said.
“You have ulterior motives for helping me?”
“Two.”
Definitely flirting. “The explanation about Mrs. Barnett is one…so what’s the other?”
“Maybe by helping you, you’ll have time to go to dinner with me…say tomorrow night?”
Her heart raced. Dinner? With the sexy, kind-hearted, charismatic doctor?
Hell, yes!
