by S A Clayton
“Hi,” I start, trying my hardest to act as normal as possible, even though I’m anything but right now. “How can I help you?” I try my best to keep my voice even, not wanting him to realize what he’s done to me.
He coughs, shaking his head before he speaks. “Sorry, I was hoping to speak to the owner.”
“Is there a problem?” I say, trying to act as professional as I should be in a moment like this.
“Not at all,” he says, smiling. My knees actually weaken at the sight. This man needs to leave soon before I do something really embarrassing…like beg for sex. “I just have a quick question.”
“Well, ask away.” His head tilts, and his eyes widen when he realizes who he’s talking to.
“You’re the owner?” He sounds surprised, and I can feel my protective anger starting to rise by the second.
“Yes, is there a problem with that?” I cringe at the attitude I hear in my voice. I know he likely meant nothing by the comment, but I can’t help the barbed wire that surfaces whenever someone questions my success.
“Not at all. Actually, I was surprised because I’ve never seen a woman like you running a bakery before.”
“A woman like me?” I question, wondering where he’s going with this.
“Young and way too beautiful to be stuck inside all day.” I can’t help the blush that creeps up my cheeks, but I do everything I can to avoid his piercing gaze.
“What can I do for you?” I ask again, trying to move the attention away from me as fast as possible.
“Well, I’m in need of seventy cookies by next week.” My mouth hangs open because…holy. Shit. That is a lot of cookies to create in just a few days.
“What are they for?” I ask, hoping they’re simple and I can make them quickly.
“They’re for my class. I teach second grade, and I accidentally forgot that Valentine’s Day is next week. I have a special day planned for the class, and wanted to bring treats.” My eyes soften as he explains the plan for the old folks’ home and his kids writing the residents letters. Jesus, it’s like this guy dropped straight from Heaven and into my lap.
“Well, what were you thinking the cookies should look like?” I ask, laughing when a confused look crosses his face.
“Umm, I didn’t know they came in different shapes. I just expected regular chocolate chip cookies, to be honest.” I shake my head, motioning to the display case where I have my heart-shaped cookies on display. I made them this morning, knowing that the day of love was just a week away. People adore novelty stuff like this around cheesy holidays.
“These are my regular Valentine’s Day cookies. Are they okay?” I pray he chooses these because I can whip up dozens in a heartbeat, so getting him seventy will be a walk in the park.
“Those look fantastic. Honestly, I would have been happy with just plain cookies. This is going above and beyond.”
“Good. If you’ll just follow me, I’ll get you the form to sign, and I’ll make sure the cookies are ready for next week.” He follows me over to the cash register, and I hand him the form. He fills it out, and as he hands it back to me, the tips of his fingers brush the side of my hand, making my breath catch. This is not good. Obviously, I need to get laid—and fast—because apparently, I can’t be around attractive men without my body going into overdrive.
I read over his form, making sure all the information is there. “Well…”—I look at the paper for his name and see it written in unnaturally neat writing—“Noah, I look forward to making these for your class.” I turn to put the form into my projects tray when his hand stops me.
“What’s your name?” I look down at the hand that’s currently wrapped around my wrist, his heat burning a hole through my skin.
“Valentina, but everyone calls me Val.” My voice sounds oddly raspy, and I curse my libido for not playing it cool.
“Well, Valentina,”—Jesus, my name sounds even better coming off his lips—“how would you like to have coffee with me?” Is he actually asking me out? I meet his eyes, and they bore into mine with such intensity that I recoil, and my hand is released from his grasp.
I like this guy, and the idea of going on a date with him intrigues me more than I thought possible. But then there’s the dark cloud that hangs over me, the memory of what my career does to guys like Noah. He deserves someone who can devote her time and energy to a relationship. Not a girl obsessed with her job.
“No, thanks,” I say as I turn and put the paper where it belongs. “I don’t really have time to date right now,” I lie, hoping he doesn’t see right through me. Our eyes meet once more, and I see a small smile play on the edge of his lips. He doesn’t seem disappointed in the least. In fact, he looks determined.
“That’s okay, Valentina, I’ll see you around.” I watch as he leaves—not minding the view—and wonder if I just met my match.
FIVE
“Sweetheart, just like that…” I moan as my eyes travel down my torso.
Before I can meet her eyes, my cock is sucked into her luscious mouth, hitting the back of her throat, making my eyes roll back in my head. Jesus, what is this girl doing to me? Her nails dig into my stomach as her blond head bobs up and down. I love the feel of her tongue swirling around my length. I look down and see those beautiful grey eyes, and all of a sudden, I can feel the tingling traveling up my spine, and I know I’m seconds away from release…
“Valentina…”
BEEP BEEP BEEP
I reach over and turn off my alarm, looking down the length of my bed, hoping to see that blond head, but there’s nothing there. “Fuck…” I mutter into the empty room. I’ve had this dream for years, especially since I don’t have the time for an actual relationship. But this is the first time it’s been about a specific woman. I would recognize that blond hair and those grey eyes anywhere, and I need to take a deep breath to get my cock to calm down.
I look over at my phone and see that I have a couple of hours before I need to be at school, so I head into the bathroom to get ready. I start the shower and turn the water to cold because I can’t seem to get the idea of Valentina’s lips around my cock out of my head.
Driving up to the bakery, I park right out front since it’s still early. I notice that there’s already a line of people out the door, and I can’t help the smile that forms. Sarah must have been right—this is the place to be in the morning. I head to the back of the line and just watch Valentina. I don’t know what I’m going to say when I see her, but I do know that watching her work is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Her blond hair is up in a messy bun, she has a bright purple apron tied around her tiny waist, and the skin-tight jeans she wears give me whiplash every time she turns around. The closer I get to the front, the more details I can see. Like the smudge of flour behind her ear, the food dye under her fingernails, and the scent of cinnamon that seems to follow her everywhere she goes. I’m mesmerized by how she handles the morning rush, so much so that I don’t even realize I’ve made it to the front of the line.
“Noah?” Val whispers as she hands a customer a cup of coffee and a scone. “What are you doing here?” The sound of her voice sends me back to the dream from earlier, and I have to take several deep breaths before I can answer.
“I thought I would stop by and see what all the fuss is about.” The blush that creeps over her cheeks sends heat straight through my body, and for a split second, I wonder how far down it goes.
“You want something to eat?” she asks, motioning to the chalkboard menus hanging behind her. As I read, I wonder if she writes it all out herself, or if she knows someone with great penmanship. I shake the thought from my head and order a blueberry scone, a butter tart, and a medium coffee. “So, how long have you been here?” I ask as she helps the next customer in line.
“Here in town, or here in the bakery?” She hands the lady her bag of goodies and gives her a sweet smile before turning her attention to the next in line.
“Both.”
“Well,
I’ve been in town for just over six months, and I opened the bakery about three months ago.”
“And thank God she did,” a man down the line says as Val gives him the brightest smile I have ever seen.
“Earl, you know you're my favorite customer, and compliments like that will always get you extra donut holes.” Earl laughs, along with the rest of the customers, and I stare at her in wonder. She was made for this. Not just the baking part, but interacting with the community. She fits, and I want to be here right along with her.
“Sweetie, this bakery is the best thing to happen to this small town. You ever need a night out, I’m your guy.” I look over at Earl and swear he winks at me. How an old man can see through me but not the beautiful woman standing behind the counter is mindboggling. Earl gives me a nod, gesturing for me to step in.
“Don’t worry, Earl, if Val needs a night out, I’ll be the one to take her.” I smirk in Val’s direction, but I don’t see the blush I expected. Instead, I get her hard stare.
“First of all,” she starts, “Earl, you are a happily married man, so don’t even joke about stuff like that.” Earl holds up his hands in mock surrender as Val points her rolling pin in his direction.
“And, you!” She points in my direction now, and I find myself taking a step back. “I am flattered that you want to go out with me, but like I told you before, I don’t have the time.” A flash of something crosses her eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more baking to do.” She gives me one last stare before she makes her way back toward the kitchen. As she passes one of her workers, I hear her mumble something about extra donut holes, and I hear Earl chuckle beside me.
“Boy, you just need to give her time,” Earl says, paying for his breakfast and patting me on the shoulder. “She’s a stubborn one, but she loves this bakery, and that will always come first for her.” I smile as he leaves through the front door, then glance back at Val, who smiles at another customer. I would never want to take away something that makes her this happy.
SIX
It’s been five days since Noah walked into my bakery, and every day since then, he’s come in and asked me out. That man makes me uneasy by just looking in my general direction. My heart rate doesn’t seem to understand that I don’t like him.
I can’t like him.
Yet, at the same time, I can’t wait to see him walk through that door. He’s somehow become a part of my morning routine, and I find myself looking forward to giving him his usual scone and butter tart, so much so that I always put one of each aside especially for him. I think back to yesterday when I might have finally pushed him away for good.
“You look beautiful today, Val.”
I couldn’t help the blush that crept from my cheeks down my neck and stopped at my chest. I watched his eyes follow its trajectory, the heat I saw in that stare sending shivers through my entire body. I knew he found me attractive, he all but blurted it out every time he was around me. Yet, somehow, I couldn’t believe him, or maybe it wasn’t that I didn’t accept that he thought I was beautiful, but more that I questioned his motives.
“You keep saying that, and I might be inclined to believe it,” I said, a small smile creeping across my lips. I didn’t look at him as I puttered around the display case, ensuring that everything was filled and making a mental note of what I needed to make more of.
“If you don’t see what I see when you look in a mirror, you need me more than I thought.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as he laughed, making me feel more at ease. I couldn’t say no to that smile, it brought me to my knees, and I could tell he was starting to realize that.
“Your usual?” I asked, handing him the bag with his goodies that I’d put aside for him earlier. Our eyes met, and I took in his appearance for the first time. He had on a sweater vest over his usual button-down long-sleeve shirt. Yet what made it sexy were his glasses. He’d changed them. They were usually black and sexy as hell, but today, they had that tortoiseshell finish that made his eyes pop even more. For a split second, I was transfixed.
“Val?” His voice brought me back to reality.
“Yeah?”
“Can I have the bag?” he asked. I looked down, and my hand still had a vise grip on his breakfast.
“Sorry,” I said as I let go of the bag and wiped my hands on my apron.
“If you wanted me to stay, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” The way he said sweetheart always got to me, I could feel the heat at the apex of my thighs and knew if I didn’t get away soon, I would cave. And a guy like Noah was dangerous with a capital D.
“Noah, you’re going to be late for school.” I said it teasingly, but in reality, I knew when school started, and he really would be late if he didn’t hurry.
“You gonna say yes this time?” He looked desperate, and every fiber of my being wanted to say yes. Saying yes to the feeling of his hands on my skin, his lips on mine, and his cock inside me. But I knew it was a bad idea. I knew guys like him, I was with a guy like him for years, and look how that had turned out.
“You gonna stop asking me?” I injected a teasing tone that seemed to surprise him—and me. He took his tart out of the bag and shoved the whole thing into his mouth.
“How can you say no to this?” he said with a mouth full of butter tart. I burst out laughing because he looked adorable. I realized as he walked out the door that this moment might mark when Noah broke through my well-constructed walls.
I shake myself out of the memory and get back to work. It’s been a crazy morning. Saturdays are always a little nuts, so I generally prepare myself for the onslaught of orders, but today seems even busier than normal—must be the article. I look around and notice that all the tables are full, and my helper is busy getting orders ready for the customers in line. I take a moment to take in the fact that my dream is a reality. Eight months ago, I thought this was over, didn’t think there was any way I could move my business from a downtown strip to a small town and still survive. Yet, here I am, thriving and loving my life for the first time in years.
When I finally get a chance to look at my watch, I see that it’s past noon. I realize that Noah hasn’t shown up yet, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s finally given up.
“Why do you look like your dog just died?” Mandy asks, walking into the kitchen, carrying two lattes. I groan at the sight as I accept the cup and take a sip, loving the caramel flavor that travels down my throat. “You know you can make this yourself, right?” Mandy accuses, pointing to the coffee machine in the corner. I take another sip and give her the finger.
“And yet you still bring me one every day.” She gives me a look, and I just chuckle as I go back into the kitchen.
“No, seriously, why do you look like someone just died? What happened?” I shake my head, waving her off, hoping she’ll let it go. But, of course, that’s too much to ask from my best friend, who is nosier than that neighbor on Friends. “Come on, Val, I know something’s bothering you, I can feel it rolling off you in waves.”
URGH! Why can’t I have a normal friend who doesn’t care about my life?
“Mandy, honey. I love you. You know that. But I promise, nothing is wrong.”
Only the fact that the guy I am slowly falling for hasn’t come in today, and I wonder if I lost my shot.
“Fine, be like that. But just know I’m onto you, and I will get to the bottom of this.”
“Sure.” I go back to rolling out the dough for my next batch of croissants when I catch Mandy picking up Noah’s breakfast. I cringe.
“What’s this?” She holds up the bag and then, as if in slow motion, her hand dips in and grabs the scone and butter tart. “Are these what I think they are?” she asks, and I nod, knowing its futile to lie to her at this point.
“Yes.” That’s all I say because, really, what else am I supposed to say? The items belong to the guy who’s so attractive, I forget my no-guys rule every time he’s
in my presence? Or maybe I should tell her they belong to the guy who could change everything for me, if I’d only stop being too scared to go for it.
“He hasn’t come in.” I shake my head and go back to rolling out the dough, needing to keep my hands and mind busy.
“Shit,” she mutters, putting down the pastries and heading my way. I hold up my hands, and she stops in her tracks.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, and she gives me a look, smirking. She knows me so well. “Fine, I’m disappointed he didn’t come in today, but I’ll survive.”
“Well, I know what you need.” Uh-oh, that’s never a good phrase. “Netflix and chill with your best friend. I promise not to grope you, and I’ll even bring the snacks.” I shake my head at the sheer weirdness of my best friend, but she’s the best thing in my life.
“That sounds awesome. I’ll bring the wine.”
“It’s a date.” Maybe this will distract me enough so I can come up with a plan for what to do about Noah. Or maybe I’ll drink the whole bottle of wine and forget he exists. If I’m being honest, either is possible.
SEVEN
“Mr. Taylor, I am impressed!” Sarah comes in, wearing her usual holiday-themed outfit. This time, there are red hearts all over her jet-black dress, she has heart-shaped earrings dangling from her ears, and I swear there are sparkly heart stickers at the corners of her eyes. The woman is insane.
“I learn from the best.” I wink at her as she takes in my classroom for a second time. I was here before dawn today, wanting to get the room decorated for the kids. Every inch of the place has something pink or red on it, and I know the kids are going to love it.
“So, how’s our baker doing?” I picture Val in my mind, her blond hair up in that messy bun of hers, flour all over her, and those grey eyes boring into mine. My cock instantly comes to life. “I’m guessing by the look on your face that she’s still playing hard to get?” As much as I’ve tried to hide my feelings for Val from everyone but Val herself, Sarah has latched on to my attraction and hasn’t let go.