AllFreeNovel
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It’s hot.
Just like him.
I watch as he types the number into his phone, then slides the card back across the counter to me. I take it and shove it back in the drawer quickly, hoping he’ll leave soon so I can breathe properly again.
“Bakery, huh?” he grunts before he shoves his phone into his pocket.
“Bakery,” I confirm with a nod.
He hums, shifting backward slightly and craning his head as his eyes slide over my case and shelves. I almost tell him that it’s all vegan bullshit but decide against it.
He can obviously read.
Instead of saying anything, I wait for him to tell me what he wants. What he’s thinking. I mean, it’s not like I can really string together more than a sentence here or there in front of him anyway.
He’s just so commanding, so beautiful, so incredibly intimidating. “Butterfinger, gluten-free?” he asks. “The fuck is that?”
“Do you like peanut butter, chocolate, and Butterfinger?” I ask.
He hums, shrugging his shoulder. “I’m more of a Heath guy myself. You got anything that’s not chocolate?”
I feel a bit deflated, not because I don’t have other flavors, but the chocolate Butterfinger is my favorite. This could be my very last customer ever, so instead of trying to push him into chocolate, I decide to tell him all about my flavors.
Not only do I describe my strawberry cake, filled with vanilla buttercream topped with lemon buttercream icing, but I do the same with raspberry, but I don’t have that in the case today. I describe the snickerdoodle and then my cookie butter. All of which are filled with flavors that balance them and then topped with decadent buttercream icing of complementing flavors.
I start to tell him about my cookies, but he holds up his hand, his palm facing me to stop me from speaking.
“Which ones are gluten, vegan, taste-free?” he asks.
Biting my tongue, literally, I shake my head. “They’re all organic and gluten-free or vegan. Sometimes I do paleo, too, but I don’t have any today.”
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Woman, how the fuck are you gonna make it in this town with this shit?” he asks.
Tears spring to my eyes. I try to blink them away, but they linger right there, ready to fall. Instead of standing in front of this beautiful man and crying my eyes out, I open the case, slide the glass to the side, and reach down, grabbing hold of the cookie butter cupcake.
It’s close to a birthday cake–type flavor without being filled with sprinkles. “Try it. On the house.”
He looks down at my outstretched hand, to the cupcake in my fingers, and then he smirks and lifts his gaze to meet mine as he reaches forward, his fingers touching mine… lingering. Shots of electricity slide up my arm and then flow to my belly.
I hold my breath, watching, waiting for him to stop touching me, but I don’t think I can. I don’t think I want him to stop. Eventually, he does pull away, taking the cupcake with him, and I watch as he peels the paper back. Then, with just one bite, he shoves the whole thing into his mouth.
My lips part in awe as he chews, and when he swallows, he winks in my direction. “You make that?” he asks.
“I did,” I say, my voice soft.
“And what’s that free of?” he asks.
“It’s completely organic, gluten-free, and made with grass-fed butter.”
He blinks. Likely because he doesn’t understand what I’ve just said means. Then he clears his throat. “Well, it seems like I was fucking wrong. Gluten-free can taste fucking great. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head once. “On the house.”
Without another word, he digs into his front pocket, takes out some money, and slams it down on the counter. I jump slightly, and his lips curve into a crooked smile at the sight before he speaks.
“I was a dick. Take it. See you soon, sweetness.”
He winks at me again, then turns and walks out of my shop. I stare at his back until the door closes behind him. Only then do I look down at the money on the counter. I suck in a breath, holding it as I stare at it.
