The Bachelor Baker. Carolyne Aarsen
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Lexi glanced from Brian to Melissa as if unsure who to talk to.
“I want a doughnut,” Treena piped up, obviously not caring who she needed to deal with.
“Sorry, honey. I don’t have any doughnuts,” Melissa said.
“Wow. They must be amazing if you’re out already,” Lexi said.
“I don’t carry doughnuts.”
Lexi looked taken aback and Melissa could almost feel Brian’s smirk behind her.
“I’m aiming for a different product line,” Melissa said, trying not to sound defensive. “Something less traditional.”
“Okay. Then I’ll have a half-dozen white chocolate blueberry scones and a dozen toffee crunch cookies.”
“Coming right up.” Melissa turned to put on her plastic disposable gloves and almost ran into Brian standing right behind her, gloves already on.
“I said I’ll take care of this,” he growled. “You go bake your little fours or whatever you call them.”
She held his steady gaze, his eyebrows lowered over his deep-set eyes, and felt the tiniest frisson of fear. Then she dismissed it. She would not be intimidated by an employee, but at the same time she sensed he was not backing down.
“Okay. I’ll be in the back,” she said with a forced smile, knowing she would have to talk to him later about the boss/employee relationship. If he was going to work here, they needed to keep a few things straight.
After Lexi and Treena left, the bell rang again and a group of people came in. Melissa heard laughter, Brian’s gruff response and more laughter.
She was curious but stayed where she was, not sure she wanted to deal with Brian’s grumpiness any more than she had to.
Quiet ensued, but then another group of people came in. Sounded like women from the voices. More laughter. Melissa knew she should keep her concentration on the new recipe she was working on for Mrs. Morgan.
She corrected a few of the amounts, but her inquisitiveness got the better of her and she stepped away from her table, peeking around the corner to see the front of the store.
Two women stood by the display cases, quizzing Brian about the products and teasing him.
“I guess your Home Ec classes are finally getting put to good use,” one of the women, a tall brunette, was saying. She fingered her long hair, giving Brian a flirtatious look.
“I just got a job here because I kneaded the dough,” he said with a wry tone in his voice. Melissa pressed down a giggle at his unexpected humor, but neither of the women seemed to catch the double entendre.
“I never thought I’d see the day a woman put an apron on the rough, tough Brian Montclair,” the other woman said, her green eyes flashing behind a pair of heavy rimmed glasses, her hair a mass of dark curls springing away from her narrow face.
“Now, now, Anita, I’m not that helpless. I put this apron on all by myself,” he said, joining in on their laughter.
“So is this your new calling?” Anita asked, wrapping her arms around her narrow frame, giving Brian a flirtatious look. “Baking cupcakes and squares?”
“I don’t care to do any of the girlie baking stuff,” Brian returned. “That’s Miss—”
“City Slicker’s job,” Anita finished for him. “I heard you call her that after the Grand Opening. After all the grumbling you did there about the new businesses I never thought I’d see you working at one of them.”
“Well, as Miss Coraline always said, the Lord moves in mysterious ways. His wonders to perform,” Brian returned with a tight smile. “Speaking of wonders, Trudy, you have to try this apple pastry.”
“I’ll take half a dozen,” Trudy replied.
“Only half? Your husband and kids will have half of them eaten before Sunday comes around,” he said, putting six more in another box.
“Always were a smooth talker,” Anita said, adding a wink. “Have you been turning your charm on the owner of the bakery, Miss Melissa City Slicker? She’s single. Pretty. She reminds me of Tracy, one of your many old girlfriends.”
Melissa knew she should get back to work, but for some reason she was suddenly curious about Brian’s romantic history.
“Miss City Slicker is nothing like Tracy,” Brian retorted.
His cutting words bothered her more than she cared to admit, as did the mention of many old girlfriends, but just as she was about to go back to her recipe, he turned.
Their eyes held a moment and, in spite of his caustic tone and in spite of what he had said about her, she couldn’t look away.
For a moment she had felt a flicker of jealousy that these women could elicit what she couldn’t.
A genuine smile.
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