Page 46 of The Alpha and the Baker

We said our goodbyes, even if they were incredibly reluctant on mine and Cas’s part. When we kissed, his niece had the good sense to step outside, which was a good thing because I wasn’t about to shorten my goodbye for her sake.

“See you Monday?” Cas asked, his voice low and rough once our lips broke apart.

Yet again, I felt that thrill of attraction rock through us, but I had to let it simmer rather than flare up.

There was a time and a place, and having his beta and niece a few feet away pretty much put a stop to anything like that.

“Yeah.” I loved that he understood how slammed my Sundays were and that I needed a break from socializing to concentrate on the day. Although, it definitely required a little less concentration now with how they’d helped me get ahead. I’d get to sleep an extra thirty minutes. “See you Monday.”

“Be safe until then.”

“No promises,” I teased, only to have him catch me up in an embrace, his strong arms squeezing me like the world’s most welcome cage. “All right, all right, I’ll behave myself.”

“Good,” he said, eyes sparkling as he gave me one last kiss. God, we were like teenagers, pasted all over each other. I didn’t care. I loved it. Loved the connection and the thrill of attraction. Loved just unabashedly feeling. “See you then.”

“See you.”

Neither of us really wanted him to leave, and he was procrastinating as much as possible, but eventually he was outside, and I was inside.

I turned back into the shop, and for the first time, I finished Sunday prep and didn’t have an entire war zone to clean.

Cas and Chris had taken care of all that, wiping everything down, sweeping, mopping, unloading and refilling my dishwasher.

I’d just had a preview of how much easier my life would be if I could afford an employee.

Maybe someday times two .

After everything that had happened during the week, I deserved some me time.

So, up to my tub I went, where I decided to use it for an actual leisurely bath rather than a hurried shower. I went all out, gathering supplies to make it really special.

After grabbing a candle, a bottle of wine, a plate of cheese and crackers, and a tray I’d specifically bought for lounging in the bath, I finally slid into the hot water. Once I was settled, I made sure my tablet was centered on the tray, then proceeded to relax for the first time in ages.

Cas had only just become part of my life, yet he’d already made such a marked difference.

I was really trying not to put the cart before the horse, but it was hard not to get swept up in how amazing it was.

Even the bake-off was a bright point to look forward to rather than the endless drudge toward trying to make enough to cover my bills and failing by a little every day.

And I was still out of the red thanks to the reunion and the upcoming baby shower.

I could probably hand out some business cards at the bake-off if we did well and possibly snatch a few new clients.

Maybe some would be turned off by a professional baker competing, but I’d read the entire packet multiple times, and there was nothing in the rules about it.

Restaurants and businesses could sponsor teams if they wanted, which explained how people could afford all the ingredients needed for so many rounds.

It was a community bake-off, and for the first time in a really long while, I actually felt like I had a community to compete with.

I wished my mom could see it. She would be so utterly delighted and down to help me plan whatever I needed. She’d be there to taste my successes and failures and give me genuine critique no matter what.

I missed her. She would love Cas. I knew that without a doubt. It was fun to imagine how she would get on with the other aunties. She was younger than a few of them, but as I had experienced myself, that didn’t matter.

Leaning back, I picked up the bath bomb I had placed on the toilet and dropped it in. As I watched the colors and glitter swirl, I let my mind wander.

And boy, did it wander. From the bake-off, to recalling the two glorious nights Cas and I had spent together, to old memories with my mother. Sometimes the juxtaposition was a bit off-putting, but it wasn’t like there was anybody in my head to judge me.

When the water was lukewarm, I drained my tub halfway and refilled it, then did it once again.

I probably would have stayed longer if I wasn’t turning into a prune, with both my wine and two water bottles I brought along all being drained.

I might have been a bit chagrined at how much alcohol I’d imbibed if it hadn’t already been half empty from the last time I had a very rough day.

After such an involved shift with lots of socializing, a good soak, and two glasses of wine, I thought I would be ready to pass right out as soon as I was dried off and dressed in a simple shift for bed.

No, suddenly I had the urge to look over what I had on the list for the bake-off. Not that I expected to come up with any amazing ideas or anything, but I wanted to visualize everything we had so far.

I threw my robe on and went downstairs to get my notebook.

But it wasn’t on my counter beside my shelf.

I frowned. I was sure I’d left it there.

Perhaps I’d been distracted by a certain pair of green eyes with unfairly long and thick lashes.

Ha, yeah, I’d certainly heard of stranger things happening.

Sure, it was a bit disappointing that I’d ruined my own vibes and now had to search the whole kitchen, but I was determined to look at the list. It was like I got an itch in my brain that just couldn’t be ignored.

However, even after searching high and low throughout the entire space, I still came up empty. Weird. I shrugged. I wouldn’t let it ruin my whole night. I’d find it after work tomorrow. Or ask Cas to look for it on Monday. I was sure he’d go over every inch of my kitchen with a magnifying glass.

“Fuck it,” I murmured and headed back upstairs. Even though it wasn’t exactly the most ideal end to the day, I was still quite contented as I settled into my bed.

Goodness knew I had plenty of amazing things to look forward to.

“My sweetie pie would probably say I’m crazy, but I swear your donuts have gotten even better!”

I smiled warmly at Mrs. Unsymi, one of my regulars, as she waved the glazed donut she always had. In a moment, she’d start going on about her sugar level.

“I switched to Madagascan vanilla,” I said, perhaps a bit more pridefully than I should have.

It had been a massive hit to my ego when I’d had to switch from the pricey stuff to generic.

Some people said there was no discernable difference between high-end and convenience when it came to vanilla, but I couldn’t disagree more.

One day, I wanted to have the space so I could make enough of my own to last the month. Considering how much I went through in a single week, it would be quite the endeavor.

“Madagascar? That sound exotic.”

Ugh, I never really liked that word, even though it was correct in this context. “It’s a tropical island, yes.”

“I would have never known they excelled with vanilla. You learn something new every day.”

“It’s either learning or forgetting,” I agreed. “And I’d rather the former.”

“Learning or forgetting. Oh, I like that! I’ll definitely be using it later.”

“You’re welcome to it.”

We continued to banter back and forth while Mrs. Unsymi finished her donut, then she launched into her mandatory sugar talk.

I didn’t mind. Yes, Sundays were my busiest day, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make time for my regulars.

After all, they were my livelihood. The least I could do was humor them.

But things really hit their stride about halfway through her saccharine speech, and before I knew it, about a dozen-and-a-half people came in a steady flow. I didn’t recognize three of them at all. New customers?

Don’t mind if I do , I sang to myself in my head. While not every new customer automatically became a repeat customer, there was always the chance that they would, and that was what mattered. With a bakery, it was all about the law of large numbers.

“Happy Sunday!” I called out when I heard the bell chime while I was in the back to grab trash bags. That was the downside of doing everything on my own; I had to be everywhere all at once. “I’ll be right with you!”

Technically, I knew it was risky every time I left the front, even when I stood in the large swath of it that had a clear view of the door, but what choice did I have?

I needed to go to the bathroom, eat, and actually bake stuff.

If I could afford to just sit idle up front for a full shift, then I’d be in a much different financial situation.

“Sorry about that,” I said, rushing to the front with trash bags in hand. “It’s been?—”

I broke off. It wasn’t a little old couple or a family dressed up in Sunday clothes that were waiting for me. Seven men, ranging from what looked like barely twenty to slightly older than me all stood in a semi-circle in front of the door.

“Can I help you?” I asked, mentally going over all my safety measures. I had pepper gel connected to my water canteen and an invisible alarm behind the counter. I had a baseball bat under the register and my cellphone in my pocket.

And yet somehow, it didn’t feel like enough.

“This your bakery?” the man in the center asked. He was tall, not quite as tall as Cas, and relatively built. There was a seriousness baked into his tan features that told me I had to be cautious around him.

“Hello, yes. I’m the owner of this bakery,” I said, smile still on my face even though I was going through dozens of mental calculations. “Can I help you with something?”

“Word on the street is that you’re sponsoring a team for the community bake-off,” he said, each word deliberate. “We just came to check it out.”