Page 19 of The Alpha and the Baker

“Wow, it smells amazing in here,” he said, the crooked smile on his face reminding me of when he offered his hand to me. Although I wasn’t tipsy now, it still made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Thanks. I’m almost done with prep. Sundays are my big day.”

“Really?” he asked, coming over to my display case and looking things over. I was acutely aware of just how close he was, and although we were surrounded with all sorts of baking scents, the only thing I could smell was his cologne. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“It’s mostly the church crowd. Gotta love their demand for donuts and bagels.”

“Right, I forgot that was a thing.”

That was an interesting little tidbit. “What? So you’re telling me that you’re not a part of a hyper-religious commune?”

He let out a surprised laugh, and I practically preened at the victory. I liked making his eyes crinkle and spark with amusement. “No, definitely not. I don’t think we’ve ever been much for organized religion. At least not since our ancestors moved over here.”

Well, at least that was one worry gone. He probably wasn’t in a cult. There was always a chance that he was lying, but it was hard to believe he would.

“By the way, I wanted to apologize for being so unprofessional yesterday. I want to assure you, commissioning baked goods from me is not an open invitation to crash the party I’m catering.”

Another laugh from him. God, was I getting addicted to the sound.

It was just so easy-going and rumbly in a way that tickled the back of my brain in just the right way.

“No worries. I feel like we should be the ones apologizing for giving you an alcoholic drink and not telling you. It’s not quite the same as spiking the punchbowl at prom, but it feels pretty analogous. ”

“Analogous?” I repeated. “That’s one hell of a word to use so early in the morning.”

“It is pretty early, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is, that’s why I was surprised that you were up and about, let alone in the city.”

His smile turned a bit bashful, and although I didn’t know why, I still found it pretty cute. It was both weird and welcome that a guy who was so drop-dead hot could also be pretty adorable. I liked the juxtaposition of it all.

“Chris and I were making a run to the public market for a bunch of stuff we can’t grow and general dairy stuff.”

“Oh man, the public market. I miss it.”

“You don’t go?”

“Too busy. I start at three-thirty or four in the morning most times, and that’s when the market opens. By the time I close, the market is done.”

He whistled. “You’re totally right. I guess I never thought about that.”

“No worries. I know my schedule isn’t exactly usual.”

“No, definitely?—”

A sharp rap on my side door cut him off, and we jerked our heads in that direction. For a moment, I was so confused, but then realization hit me like the truck that was waiting outside.

“My delivery,” I blurted, rushing to the door.

Normally, I always left the side door open in the half-hour window that my bulk delivery guy showed up, which was biweekly on Sundays. But I’d been so caught up with everything that I’d completely forgotten about it.

“Delivery?” Cas asked, following me.

“Bulk ingredients, like flour and stuff. Cheaper to order it and have it delivered by a guy me and three other shops around here use. We split the fees between us and give him a little extra tip for his trouble.”

What I didn’t say was that all of that was under the table.

Technically, the man was only supposed to be delivering to the Tex-Mex place, but him allowing us to split the fees amongst ourselves for an extra two stops and a hundred dollars in his pocket made it so we could all afford the delivery we needed.

Because flour was heavy.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Sure is!”

By the time I got to the door, two sacks of flour were already waiting there. Yeah, Gary was pretty efficient. But before I could even greet him or bend down to pick one up, Cas sidled around me and scooped both bags up at the same time.

Holy shit! Just how strong was this guy?

“I got this,” he said with a grin, like he wasn’t just casually holding a hundred pounds of flour. “Where should I put this?”

“Um, straight back, then to your left. Bottom shelf of both racks. There’s a bag and a half already on them.”

“Roger, roger.”

And then he walked off with the two sacks, leaving me to handle the tip and do no physical labor. Not that I was complaining; hauling flour bags was the least favorite part of my week, but it was most certainly unexpected.

Especially when he returned so quickly that he was actually able to help Gary unload the truck.

My order was about a third of what it used to be for most things, but flour was still pretty high up there since I used it for pretty much everything.

I ordered about eight bags every two weeks, and usually that was the right amount, give or take a bag.

But I hoped I could bump it up to ten bags during the busy season. That would be a huge sign that I was headed in the right direction.

“You be safe now, Miss Felicia,” Gary said, tipping his head before slamming the rear doors of his van. I would have waved back, but I was holding a case of heavy cream, which was living up to its name even with my baker muscles.

“You too, Gary. Tell Mr. and Mrs. Munoz I said hi.”

“Will do.”

With that, he drove off. I headed back inside, where Cas was just returning from carrying the last two bags. Maybe I was a bit too caught up in those biceps of his and his strut, because the next thing I knew, I was tripping over my slightly askew welcome mat.

I braced instinctually and squeezed my eyes shut, but while I did reach a sudden stop, there was no pain. Confused, I opened my eyes to find myself face-to-face with Cas yet again.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I murmured, caught up in those intense eyes of his. Honestly, I was impressed I had the capacity to string together a coherent sentence with my body reacting so viscerally to our close proximity.

He’d caught me.

Physically caught me.

Like something out of a Hollywood movie, his arm was around the small of my back as he supported my full weight.

That was so fucking hot.

Shit! The heavy cream!

That was so expensive, and my stomach sank at how costly it would be to replace it. As Cas slowly righted me, I realized our feet weren’t wet. In fact, there wasn’t even a drop of white liquid on the floor, let alone an alabaster flood.

No, he couldn’t have .

But sure enough, when I focused on Cas’s other arm, I saw that he’d caught that too and was balancing it like it was nothing.

Who was this guy?

“Are you okay there?” he asked, voice layered with concern, which definitely did things for me. Was that weird? Maybe. I was pretty sure I was past caring.

“Am I okay?” I retorted. “You’re the one who basically stopped two hundred pounds in freefall, give or take.

” I actually wasn’t one hundred percent certain how much the box of heavy cream weighed, considering it was categorized by unit as opposed to weight.

“You sure you didn’t dislocate your shoulder or something?

He huffed a laugh under his breath and got me the rest of the way to my feet. What was it about the guy that always made me feel like I was living in my own personal rom-com? The things that happened around him were just too perfect for real life.

Or maybe I was just a lot more romantic and lonely than I’d thought.

“Nah, I’m fine. Farm strength, ya know?”

Ah, yeah. I had heard about that. There were certain jobs and lifestyles that had their own special strength to them, and mine was one of them.

I had a very developed upper body for someone who didn’t go to the gym, and I’d been told by my doctor back when I had insurance that my forearms were overdeveloped.

But I was pretty proud of my baker’s biceps, and I preferred them a tad more than my baker’s belly.

Not that I didn’t like my stomach. I used to be self-conscious about it when I was younger, especially considering how hyper-skinny Asian women were “supposed” to be, but I’d grown to love it.

I liked being a touch soft, and flaring out from my tummy into some wider hips.

Besides, without my extra fluff, my booty would be a lot smaller, and I certainly didn’t want that.

“I gotcha.” I chuckled. What I was laughing at, I didn’t quite know, but I supposed with all the adrenaline and whatnot, everything was a bit amplified.

It was beginning to feel like I had a certified crush on a man I’d only just met, which was totally outside the norm for me.

I could count the crushes I’d had in life on one hand, and one of them was Keanu Reeves and one was Queen Latifah.

“Well, thank you so much for your help. Anything else I can do before you boogie out of here?”

I didn’t know why I asked it that way, but I supposed I was giving him a way to stay longer if he wanted to.

A serious expression settled over his strong features.

Serious as if he was going to ask me out?

Did I even want that? I was currently struggling to save my business, so what kind of time would I have for a relationship? It hadn’t even been on my mind in years, and yet when Cas’s green eyes landed on me, the thought was very much there.

But then the seriousness cleared, and he was grinning at me again.

“Not a problem, not a problem at all. But I think I’ve made Chris wait long enough. Thanks again for the keys. I probably wouldn’t have realized I was missing them until I tried to drive my personal car.”

“We wouldn’t have wanted that,” I said.

I wasn’t sad to see him go, per se, but I wasn’t thrilled about it either. I walked him to the door, then locked it again for the twenty minutes or so I had until opening.

Now that I was alone in my shop, it kind of felt emptier than ever.

Huh.