Page 7 of Bread by the Grim (Ghostlight Falls #4)

Grim

I wake up the next morning, my cock in my hand, my mat completely soaked, with absolutely no memory of anything since I locked myself in for the night. A chill runs down my spine.

Has the spell stopped working?

I sit up and check the door locks. Everything is still locked.

The locks don’t guarantee I can’t get out when I shift, but it definitely slows my gremlin down. What I gain in strength when I shift, I lose in fine motor skills, and opening the five locks I have on the closet takes a lot of dexterity I just don’t possess when I’ve shifted.

I unlock each lock slowly–first the combination lock, then the digital one, followed by the fingerprint one before the deadbolt and the one just below the doorknob.

The clock on the bedside table reads 6:30.

I should have been downstairs an hour ago.

I scroll through my contacts on my phone and find Phil’s:

SORRY I’M RUNNING LATE. NOT FEELING WELL TODAY.

She messages back almost instantly.

I’LL PUT SOME SOUP ON FOR YOU. TAKE YOUR TIME!

Great first impression, Grim.

The most perfect woman you’ve ever met shows up at your door, and you make yourself late to work having wet dreams about her. AND, IF THAT’S NOT BAD ENOUGH, she offers to make you soup when you lie about it.

I’m the absolute worst.

I want to hurry up and get down there, but I need a shower before I show up to work.

I’m literally covered in my own cum. My gremlin is no joke.

Is he going through some sort of a phase?

A weird shifter puberty? I turn on the shower and catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror.

I’ve shifted a bit in my sleep, and my face isn’t completely back to normal.

It’s close but not quite. I can still see the strange angles and the scales along my cheeks.

“Great timing, Grim. You really know how to impress the ladies,” I grumble to my reflection before stepping into the hot water.

Rain is coming down in buckets as I hurry down the back stairs and into the warmth of the kitchen. Phil is up front making change and conversation with a woman at the counter.

As promised, there’s a pot of chicken broth with vegetables on the stove, and somehow she has everything under control after being here for only a day.

There is a small variety of donuts and donut holes along with cream cheese danishes in the display case.

The dough for the sub rolls is set out and rising.

Tomatoes have even been sliced. It’s not Bernice-level, but it’s amazing for her first full day on the job.

“Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to put the bread in the oven yet,” she apologizes.

I come to stand beside her as the customer leaves. “Are you kidding? You’ve gotten so much done. I’m sorry, I’m late. I woke up with an upset stomach.”

“No worries. It’s been a slow morning. The rain is keeping everyone home, I think.”

“Still, thank you. You did an incredible job.”

She smiles, and it lights up her whole face, the vanilla scent of her coming off in waves.

Gods, does she know that she does that? I wonder as a new soggy customer comes in from the rain. She welcomes them in with a cheerful smile, and I sneak off, grateful for the chance to adjust myself in private while she deals with the public .

I’m two hours behind, and there’s a ton of work to be done in the back, but that doesn’t keep my mind from drifting back to Phil at every possible minute. Even the sub rolls, so perfectly shaped, make me think of her and how amazing she is with dough.

What else could those hands do? What else could we do together?

Despite the rain, business is steady throughout the morning, keeping Phil busy enough out front that I manage to get caught up in the back.

Ten o’clock comes way too soon. “You got plans for the day?” I ask her as I come back up to the front.

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Would it be okay if I stayed out here a little longer? Learned about lunch? Not on the clock, of course.”

“You’ve been out here since two. Aren’t you exhausted?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “The kitchen’s my home. Not in the barefoot and pregnant way. In the chef way. Not that I’m against pregnancy. I want kids one day. I just–”

The idea of Phil barefoot and pregnant with my child does things to me that I’ll definitely be paying for later.

I cough to clear my throat, and, frankly, as an excuse to turn away so I can adjust myself yet again.

“You just mean you’re at home in your work environment?

” I ask as I go to the sink and wash my hands.

She flushes a beautiful pink. “Yes. I feel capable in the kitchen in a way that I don’t feel capable in other places.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

She chuckles, and the sound sends shivers down my spine. I have it so bad for this woman. “Then don’t ever ask for help with the books. My math is atrocious.”

I shrug. “We all have our weaknesses.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “I can’t imagine you have a weakness, Grim. You seem incredibly strong and capable.”

I can’t help but smile at the compliment, but I’ve never learned to take one. “You’d be surprised.”

A customer enters the shop before she can press that line of thought any more.

“Goodness, the spadefoot population is going to be out of control this year with all the rain we’re getting!” the woman exclaims to herself.

“What’s a spadefoot?” Phil asks.

The woman chuckles. “You must be new around here, dear…it’s only the horniest toad on the planet?—”

Phil thankfully gets sucked into a scientific discussion of the mating habits of our local Great Basin Spadefoot, the toad that will be living it up here pretty soon with its annual mass orgy in Dreadwither Forest. It’s more than enough to distract her from where our conversation was going and lets me slip to the back .

Not that I’d mind talking to Phil about anything she wants to talk about, but discussing weaknesses is the beginning of a dangerous path for me. I want Phil to have the chance to spend some time with me and get to know the real me before she has to know my gremlin.

Over the next few weeks, Phil quickly becomes a customer favorite.

I’d expect nothing less. She kindly listens to Ben, the elderly moth man who’s a regular, tell her long-winded stories about his grandchildren while he eats his daily turkey and Swiss on wheat.

She sneaks free cookies to small children and has even started making doggie treats for the people that eat on the patio with their pets.

She’s absolutely the perfect employee—always on time, always in a good mood, always working hard. Working with her makes the day go by so much faster and makes her days off seem so much quieter and bland by comparison.

I do my best to keep far away from her on her days off.

The itchy-achy feeling along my spine has only gotten worse in the weeks that have passed since she arrived, and I don’t know what to do about it.

I’ve been attracted to women before. I’ve even had a few short relationships over the years, but I’ve never felt the way I do about Phil.

Which sounds stupid—something a kid would say. But it’s one hundred percent true.

Maybe it’s because she’s my employee? Maybe this is only exciting because it’s forbidden, and it’s making my gremlin all antsy?

But the more I think about it, the less that rings true.

Phil is beautiful and sexy, but she’s also kind and smart, and I’ve never seen anyone roll dough the way she does.

Her upper arms have got to be so incredibly toned—I’d give anything to see them bare, run my hands down them, and let them drift to her waist… and there I go again.

It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even have to be near her anymore. All I have to do is think about her, and my gremlin is ready to take over.

It’s a talk we need to have soon. I can’t let it take over before she knows about it and risk scaring her off, but I dread how much it’s going to change things between us.

Every person I’ve ever had to tell gets that same pitying look in their eyes when I explain to them I have a dark side–a side I can’t exactly control.

And even though Phil and I aren’t in a relationship, I know this tiny bit of information will haunt us.

She’ll always think about it every time I get grumpy or frustrated.

She’ll look at me with fear in her eyes every time my voice gets too loud, every time I wake up on the wrong side of the mat.

I like who we are now without that between us. Not that we’re anything .

I’m just her boss.

And I’m the worst boss in the world because all I do is think of all the places I could fuck her in this bakery.

Her naked body pressed against the round part of the glass case as I slid into her tight pussy from behind.

Splayed out on the island so I could feast on her before fucking her until she was screaming my name.

Pressed up against the wall in the walk-in cooler, her legs wrapped around me as she bounced on my cock.

The health department would not approve.

“Hey, Grim,” Phil says two weeks into her time at the bakery.

“You got a minute?” We’ve finally gotten into a routine similar to the one I had with Bernice.

Phil wakes up early and gets the donuts started, then works the morning shift at the counter.

At ten she’s done for the day and I take over until five when I close for the day.

Some days, Phil hangs around, helping me with the counter. Other days, she sits in the back and makes a batch of something special to sell for the day. Today, though, she looks troubled, and I’m immediately worried as I turn to face her.

“Yeah, what’s up, Phil?”

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment before she meets my eyes. “You know how I said cakes were my thing back home? ”

I nod.

“Well, I kinda took a wedding cake order. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll gladly pay a percentage to the bakery to use your equipment. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think. I just said yes?—”

I stare at her blankly. “Why would I mind?”

She stops and stares at me. “I-I don’t know. I guess because I didn’t ask first.”

I shake my head. “Phil, it’s my bakery, but I wouldn’t be where I am without Bernice. She made a lot of changes and additions over the years that really made this place work. As long as you’re always trying to make this place a success, I’m happy to support you.”

“Thank you, Grim, you have no idea how much that means to me.” She reaches out and pulls me into a full-body hug that is both amazing and absolutely terrifying. My gremlin feels like a separate entity, pushing against the inside of my chest, desperate to escape.

I wrap just one arm around her, not wanting her to feel how hard just being this close to her makes me, and she backs off immediately.

“Sorry, not trying to be all up in your personal space. But thank you. This means so much to me. I can work out a contract between you and me for use of your kitchen.”

I shake my head. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your duties and you’re paying for the ingredients, I don’t mind you using the equipment. You don’t need to pay me for it.”

“Thank you, Grim. You won’t regret it!” she moves in to hug me again, stops herself, then grabs my hand to shake it. “I’m learning. I will get better at remembering to respect your personal space, I promise.”

She hurries off to her room, and my eyes fall to her ass, her hips swishing in the marvelous way they do in the tight jeans she wears to work in.

If only she would keep forgetting.