Page 93 of Almost Ravaged

“Come back here,” she insists.

Tentatively, I push through the swinging partition that separates the seating area from the production side of the bakery, peering over my shoulder like I’m committing a crime and don’t want to get caught. “I’ll try it. But let me at least photograph it first.”

Edna cocks a brow, but she doesn’t argue.

I take the plate and grab a clean dish towel, then arrange them both on the counter by the window.

“No, wait,” Edna fusses, shuffling closer. “There’s flour all over that surface.”

I smile at her over my shoulder. “I promise it’s okay. That’s part of the appeal.”

I take several pictures and try multiple angles, even using a towel to filter some of the intense morning light coming in from the window. When I think I have what I need, I swipe through them and quickly add them to the cloud for the class.

Once I’ve pocketed the phone, I eye the pie, then glance at Edna again. “You’re sure?”

Hands planted on her hips, she gives me a stern look. “Eat the damn pie, girl.”

I bite back a laugh. Who am I to argue with a command like that?

Without further hesitation, I pick up the plate and accept the fork she offers.

The moment the first bite hits my tongue, I’m sold. “Edna.” My eyes flutter shut as I savor the salty, sweet deliciousness. “What is this?”

“Salted caramel apple pie.” The woman practically preens. “Made with the first Honeycrisps of the season.”

I reload my fork, this bite much larger than the first. It tastes better, too, with more ooey-gooey caramel drizzled over the buttery crust. A moan escapes me this time, but I’m not even sorry. The pie is honestlythatgood.

“Sawyer?”

At the sound of the deep, familiar voice, I snap my eyes open.

Noah stands on the other side of the counter, wearing a confused frown.

Good grief.

My cheeks heat as he stares at me. The man very clearly caught me moaning over pie.

“Hi,” I choke out.

Edna, who’s not bothering to hide a snicker, circles me, returning to her work. Like she isn’t the reason I’m behind this counter in the first place.

Noah watches her, eyes narrowed, then crosses his massive arms over his chest and homes in on me. “What are you doing back there?”

“Um…” I wince. “Taking pictures for the project. And trying Edna’s new recipe.”

“Well, get out,” he snaps.

Edna gasps. “Noah Augustus. Do not scold her,” she admonishes. “If you want to take your grumpy attitude out on someone, you take it out on me. I asked her to come back. Practically dragged her here myself.”

I stifle a laugh. Drag me, she did not. All she did was tempt me with sweet treats. Nevertheless, her willingness to come to my defense warms me all the way through.

Noah draws out a long sigh and rubs at his brow. Evenly, he says, “Sawyer, will you please come around to the other side of the counter? I understand Edna lured you back there, but my insurance adjuster won’t care about that minor detail if you get hurt.”

Oh.

Suddenly, Mercer’s lecture about where students could and could not go during site visits, specifically because of safety concerns, surfaces in my mind.

Shit.