Page 5 of The Alpha and the Baker

I did try to keep myself busy as the hours ticked by, researching SEO and AdSense utilization when I could. However, I didn’t exactly enjoy that, so I was always happy to stop every time the bell over the door chimed.

Ding!

And that was my cue. Closing my laptop, I stepped out from behind the bread retarder to see possibly the most handsome man I’d seen in a while striding into my shop.

Whole-double E Halibut! I had to pause for a moment and train my face into a customer-service appropriate smile.

It wasn’t that I was desperate or anything, but most of my customers were the elderly, housewives, or nannies.

Certainly not country beefcakes complete with a blue flannel tucked into his jeans.

He wasn’t movie-star pretty by any means—that sort of overly polished, too-good-to-be-true, artificial, grown-in-a-lab beauty. No, instead he was ruggedly handsome, like someone who could exist without ever needing surgical enhancements.

His nose was on the larger side, but it balanced out the square cut of his jaw. His strong brow matched his cheekbones. He was tanned—far more than I was—and to top it all off, he had green eyes that could be described as dazzling, and I didn’t think anyone would object.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

Oh, and I could tell he was also built as fuck beneath that practical clothing of his. He looked like he could toss a couple of bales of hay, wrangle a calf, then be back in time for dinner and to kiss me at the door.

Kiss me at the door? Maybe I was a little more desperate than I thought.

Sure, it had been a while since I’d gone on a date, but that was only because getting my business management degree while completing my bakery apprenticeship and working my way up to opening my own shop had been so demanding.

How was I supposed to juggle a relationship on top of all of that?

“Hi! Yes!” he said somewhat breathlessly.

Goodness, was this guy genetically engineered to be hot? Because even his voice was scrumptious, all low and slightly raspy with a Midwestern twang I recognized from some of the church folk who drove in from the countryside.

I knew a lot of people would assume that, as an Asian woman, I wouldn’t be into that, but who didn’t like a cowboy? Especially one who looked so dashing?

“Look,” he continued, completely oblivious to my thirsty thoughts.

I managed to push those thoughts to the back of my mind for the most part.

After all, just because the man was attractive didn’t mean he’d asked to be ogled.

Besides, I’d met plenty of handsome and beautiful people who got a lot less so once they opened their mouths.

“I know that this is a long shot, but my family has had a bit of an emergency.”

An emergency? Oh boy. As much as I loved being able to help in a pinch, I’d long since found that those in “emergency situations” were often the worst customers.

Their demands were ridiculous, their expectations even more so—they were never happy and hardly ever returned.

Not to mention they usually wanted ridiculous discounts.

“What’s the sitch?” I asked.

“Well, all the cakes for our family reunion got burnt. And not just scrape-off-the-top burnt, but could-be-used-as-a-new-type-of-coal burnt.”

That startled a laugh out of me. I hadn’t expected him to be handsome and witty. He must be a jerk, otherwise it would simply be unfair. “Sorry,” I said quickly as heat rose to my cheeks. “Laughing at your turn of phrase, not the situation.”

“Eh, if we don’t laugh, we cry,” he said with a half-smile.

“I would really, really be appreciative if you can help us out. Ideally, it’d be three sheet cakes.

One vanilla with cream cheese frosting, multilayered with rhubarb jam and sweet cream, the other chocolate with any sort of ganache between two layers and whatever chocolate frosting you have, and the third is usually a lemon cake with cream cheese frosting. ”

I whistled. That certainly was a tall order. “And when would you need these by?”

I could tell by the way he winced that it wasn’t going to be good.

“How hard would you kick my ass if I said late this afternoon? Around four-ish?”

I blinked at him, because that was all I could do. It was almost nine in the morning. He wanted three cakes in seven hours?

“I’m not exactly in the habit of assaulting potential customers, but this request is so ridiculous I might. I don’t have the supplies to make rhubarb jam, and not enough time to run to the store.”

“Oh!” He reached into the messenger bag at his side. “I grabbed the jam on my way out. I also have our homemade sweet cream. It’s great stuff.”

He produced one massive quart jar and then another, and although it was unorthodox, I was a little impressed.

Clearly whoever made the cakes for his family reunion had been prepared, but something had happened with the oven.

Hopefully, it had been a simple accident rather than someone getting hurt, which allowed the cakes to burn.

“Even if I was willing to use outside products, I’m not sure I can deliver what you’re asking for.”

“Honestly, even one would be amazing. I just don’t want there to be nothing.

” He must have clocked the dubious look on my face because his massive shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

“Look, I don’t want to guilt you, and I understand that my family will survive just fine without a cake.

But my niece is going to blame herself if there’s absolutely nothing there, and I’m sure you understand why I’d really want to avoid that. ”

Huh.

There was a sincerity in his voice and tone, along with a whole lot of worry. I was used to people trying to get me to pity them, but this didn’t seem like that. He was just explaining why it was so important to them.

“I… I can do at least one cake, yeah. I’ll attempt to do the others, but no guarantee.”

“Thank you,” the man said, his smile nearly cracking his face in two, and man, was it dazzling. “Oh! We never discussed the price. How much do you usually charge?”

“Normally it would be one-fifty for the multilayer sheet cake, but since you’ve brought two of the ingredients, I can do it for one-twenty. The other sheet cakes would also be one-twenty each.”

I waited for him to huff at my prices. Although I tried to keep them low, I couldn’t get the same wholesale discounts that mega places could.

“So, that’s about three sixty?”

“Yes. Plus tax.”

“Right. Okay, since this is a rush job, how about six hundred if you’re able to do all three? I’ll put a deposit down now of one-twenty for the first cake. Oh, and I hate to ask, but do you deliver?”

“I do. I usually charge by the mile.”

“We’re about a twenty-four-minute drive from the city, so how about a hundred for delivery?”

It was taking all of my willpower not to have dollar signs pop out of my eyes. This guy was offering to pay me nearly double.

DOUBLE!

He must really love that niece of his.

Normally I would never put money ahead of producing quality work, but with that kind of payout…

Well, not only would I use a bunch of stock that was about to go bad, but it would also get me out of the red for the month.

And give me a great step ahead for the next month as well.

Not to mention, if this family reunion was big enough to need three sheet cakes, then there was a pretty high chance of me being able to win at least a couple of new people over as customers.

“You sir, have yourself a deal,” I said, offering him my hand.

I didn’t think his smile could grow any bigger, but it most certainly did.

“Really? God, thank you so much! You’re making a lot of folk’s day, I’ll have you know! If you wanna ring me up, I’ll pay that deposit, then go tell them the good news. Oh, and you’ll need my number for delivery, right?”

His joy was infectious. He reminded me of something Roald Dahl had said about lovely people on the inside having it shine through their exterior. I’d just met the guy, but he was definitely shinin’.

“Yes, I will. And you said you’d want me there around four?”

“Yeah. Earlier is plenty welcome if you can, but five is when it’ll be a bit late. I want people to be able to enjoy the cake and digest it before we go on our night run.”

“Night run?” I asked curiously.

“Uh… yeah. You know. Celebrating spring by enjoying a cool night run instead of a frigid winter run.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmured. “I’ll take your word for it.”

I wasn’t really a runner. While I was kind of average-sized, I had a softness around my middle from sampling so many of my own goods.

But I didn’t mind it. I was fairly confident in how I looked.

All I’d really want to change about myself was being a few inches taller so I could reach the top shelves more easily, having bigger hands to use male-geared culinary tools better, and maybe not being a part of the itty-bitty titty committee.

My modest, barely-B cups did their best, but they weren’t exactly overflowing.

My rear, however, more than made up for it, and it was just hard for me to feel bad about myself when I had a thicc ass.

“Eh, maybe it’s a country thing,” he said, and who knew, maybe it was.

We chatted a bit more as I rung him up for the deposit and had him write his number and address on the receipt.

I was a bit paranoid about somehow misreading or messing up his number and losing out on the rest of the money, so I made sure to text him while he was still in the bakery.

I had to admit, it was cute how his clunky Otterbox case began to ring with a familiar song about a monster wolf in the UK.

Awwwwoooooo! It howled musically, and I swore the guy blushed a little, which made him even more handsome.

“Nice ringtone you have there…” I paused, realizing we’d never exchanged names, so I looked at his receipt. “Castiel.”

“It’s Cas, please,” he said, offering me that crooked smile again. I probably shouldn’t have liked it as much as I did, but I definitely did like it. “Castiel is for when I’m in trouble.”

“And are you in trouble often?” I asked. Whew, that was smooth! Normally, I would never really flirt with a customer, but if the vibes were right, why fight it?

“You ask like you’re looking for trouble,” he shot right back.

Maybe in any other situation that line would be sleezy, but it made me chuckle a bit.

Actually, it was more of a giggle. A giggle.

Like I was a hormonal, crushing teenager again.

Although I knew it wasn’t exactly the most professional thing for me to do, it was such a lovely change of pace, emotion-wise.

After so much time fretting, worrying, grieving, and planning, it was nice to just flirt.

Banter. And there were no stakes to it. It wasn’t like me and Mr. Country Cas were going to see each other again after I delivered his cakes.

“Nah, I’m too boring for that,” I said, gently shutting the conversation down. It wasn’t that I wanted it to end, but if I was going to get three sheet cakes done, I needed to get cracking .

“If saving the day for my entire family constitutes as boring, I have a much more sedate life than I thought.” He tipped his head to me before putting his card back in his wallet. “I look forward to seeing you later, Miss…?”

“Felicia,” I answered. “You can call me Felicia.”

“All right then, Felicia. I look forward to seeing you later.”

“I look forward to it, too.”

And to my great surprise, I was telling the truth.