Page 21 of Sweets and Sycamores

Was her voice too high? It sounded pitchy. And why was she rocking on her heels?

“Apron,” Dominic said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Allie marched to the storage room and took a moment in the hallway to catch her breath. What was wrong with her?

Don’t answer that.

She took one of the clean aprons and returned to the kitchen after taking five—seven—deep breaths.

“Here you go,” she said and extended it out to her boss.

Dominic looked from her to his hands, wrist deep into the dough. He lifted his hands to his sides and leaned down, facing her. She stared at him like an idiot with the apron in her hands until her boss spelled out the obvious.

“Can you put it on?” he said, dragging the words out.

Allie blinked.

“Yes?”

“Are you asking me?” Dominic’s patience slipped. “I don’t have all day.” He gestured with his raw-dough-covered hands.

Right.

Allie stepped closer to him and hung the string over his head, careful not to disturb the perfectly tied bun.

Then Dominic stood to his full height and turned around.

This close, the smell of spicy cedarwood with a faint scent of leather enveloped her, and she fought against taking a full breath in.

Allie cleared her throat and stretched her arms to grab the apron string and tie them around his back.

She avoided hugging her boss from behind, but her arms grazed against his waist as she pulled at the ropes.

Knotting the damn things was hard with trembling hands, but mercifully she managed a lopsided bow and stepped back.

“Thanks,” Dominic said.

Allie nodded and left the kitchen, her coffee forgotten. This was the perfect moment to go back out into the cold air.

After their lunch break, Dominic left Alecsandra to handle the customers while he worked on perfecting his dulce de leche recipe.

This was Mia’s favorite dessert, and he didn’t make it for the bakery anymore since everyone complained it was “too sweet.” Dom couldn’t argue; it was too sweet.

But Mia loved it, and he hadn’t made it in a while, and now with Alecsandra’s help, he had a bit more time on his hands.

Dominic wiped his palms on the apron and was immediately reminded of this morning, of Alecsandra’s fingers brushing his sides, the goosebumps that blossomed all over his skin. He should have washed his hands and put the damn apron on by himself, or risk getting his sweater dirty.

He was a fool.

A fool who could bake a mean dulce de leche, but a fool nonetheless. The dessert was cool enough to taste now. It was as sweet as he remembered, and Dom couldn’t suppress a shudder. He scooped a bit onto a small plate and went to the front to have Alecsandra taste it too.

Dom had come to appreciate having the Witch help around the bakery, not that he’d ever admit it out loud, especially not to Brandon.

The smugness that would fill him would be eternal, and Dom would never hear the end of it.

But it was nice to have someone else taste what he baked and give him feedback, even if her feedback was always the same: “Everything is delicious, Mr. Ranford.”

From the small hallway that led to the front, Dominic saw Alecsandra standing in front of the register. But her posture was rigid, her arms wrapped around her. He stepped behind the counter and met one of the few men he loathed from the bottom of his heart.

“Afternoon, Dom,” Jared Finn said in an overfriendly tone, as always.

They were not friends, they would never be friends, and every time he crossed the bakery’s threshold, Dom fought the urge to shove a “We reserve the right to select our customers” sign in his face and kick him out.

But that was not the image he wanted to create for Dom’s Sweets, and he wouldn’t let the asshole ruin it.

Hopefully.

“Jared,” he spat through his teeth. His eyes went to Alecsandra, who stood there staring at the man, back ramrod straight and lips pressed into a thin line.

Jared was the first customer she didn’t smile at.

Dominic had witnessed his customers treat her with contempt, with ugly sneers and not-so-much-whispered comments, yet she had always smiled at them.

The jerk made her feel uncomfortable.

“Take this and go to the back.” Dom shoved the plate to her. Alecsandra flinched as if she just noticed him standing there, and her big brown eyes watched Dom with an intensity he couldn’t understand. But she took the plate and left for the kitchen without another word.

The moron looked after her like she was something he wanted, and that rubbed Dominic the wrong fucking way.

“What do you want?”

“Just getting to know the newest resident of our small town here,” Jared said with a sleazy smile that made Dom want to knock his teeth out. He didn’t need to Read him to know what was going on in that sick mind of his. He’d been the same ever since they were kids.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dominic growled. Hot anger traveled through him, pushing his breaths in and out faster. He gripped the edge of the counter and hoped to not break a piece off it.

“Are you gonna have at it?” The smirk on Jared’s face grew bigger. Dom locked his jaw, teeth clenched so hard his head hurt.

“Get out.”

“I thought you wanted to keep the appearances up, friend,” he pressed on the word.

Everything he wanted to do was keeping Jared-fucking-Finn out of his place.

“Out,” he snarled and wasted no time rounding the counter.

Jared took a few steps back, putting distance between himself and Dominic. He raised his arms in a fake peaceful gesture and left without another word.

Dom didn’t know what to do with all this pent-up anger. He felt like punching a hole in the wall, but he’d regret it later when he had to fix it. His nostrils flared, and his breathing was still loud when Alecsandra returned from the kitchen, a glass of water at her mouth.

She looked around the bakery and her features relaxed into her casual smile when she didn’t find the man that had made her shy away.

For Jared’s sake, Dom hoped she had only felt uncomfortable and nothing else.

When her eyes met Dom’s, her smile grew and turned genuine and warm, a smile she didn’t share with many people.

“I don’t want to upset you, Mr. Ranford, but I don’t want to lie to you either.

” That had Dom’s heart standing at attention, his brain going through wild scenarios about what that fucker could have said to her.

Or worse, done to her. If he laid a hand anywhere near her, or hell, looked at her the wrong way…

At least Alecsandra wasn’t willing to lie to him about it.

“What is it?” he asked, trying to keep the rage from his voice and not quite succeeding at it.

“That thing in the kitchen… I don’t know what it is, but it’s really, really sweet,” she said and chugged the rest of the water.

Dom felt the anger evaporate from his body.