Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I glanced at the darkness outside the shop windows. “It takes some getting used to, but I like the peace and quiet, too.”
He moved over to the industrial sink, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and washed his hands before picking a clean apron off one of the shelves against the wall. “What can I do?”
We spent the next hour measuring ingredients into the large mixing bowl and sharing some of our favorite holiday traditions from growing up. Miller’s face lit up when he talked about his mother.
“My mom had this obsession with shortbread, but she’d only eat it during the holidays. She said if she ever allowed herself to eat it during any other month, she’d have a weight and cholesterol problem.” He shook his head and sighed despite his soft smile. “Once we knew she wouldn’t get better, I ordered her the shortbread stars from Dancing Deer bakery online because they were her favorite. It didn’t matter that it was a warm day in spring. We pretended it was Christmas and ate them until we were sick.”
I made a mental note to make him some shortbread for Christmas. “My grannie Ruth made a ginger pound cake that was the same way. We could eat that thing until we puked, so she’d only make it at Christmas. One year when I was nine, I overheard my parents talking about Grannie Ruth being sick and possibly not making it till Christmas. The next time I saw her, I shamelessly asked her to make me ginger pound cake for my birthday in case she died before Christmas.”
Miller’s eyes widened. “No you didn’t.”
I nodded. “Did too. Needless to say, my mother was horrified. And when Grannie Ruth made me ginger pound cake for my birthday that September, my father clenched his jaw so tightly, I thought his teeth might break. And Grannie simply shot me a wink. She said it had made her feel special when I’d made my request. ’Course, she also implied she’d been planning on giving me a PlayStation 2, but because I’d preferred the cake…” I shrugged. “Served me right. And don’t ever play power games with a woman who had eight kids. You won’t win.”
Miller’s laugh filled my kitchen. “I hope that cake was damned good.”
“You can tell me when I send one home with you later today,” I said, nodding my head toward the Bundt pans I’d prepped on a side table.
We worked together easily, our conversation making the time fly by. When Hannah showed up at six thirty, she was shocked to see Miller there. “Oh, hi,” she said, coming to a stop inside the arched opening to the kitchen from the shop. “Did Darius press you into service since we have so much to do today?”
Miller’s face flushed pink. “He said you had a lot of holiday orders.”
I bit my tongue against a laugh, but Hannah knew me well enough to see right through Miller’s blush. “He’s not lying,” Hannah said with a straight face. “But he has to get here so early in the morning these days, it would have made more sense for you to sleep over if you wanted to get here at the same time.”
She turned back and flitted away as Miller groaned and dropped his chin to his chest.
I finally let the laugh go and leaned over to press a kiss to the top of his head. “If only we’d thought of that,” I said before ducking down to kiss his warm cheek. “Woman’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
We eventually settled back into the rhythm of baking as Hannah woke up the shop and began filling the display cases and preparing orders. I noticed Miller’s phone buzz several times but refrained from asking why he didn’t answer it or even look at it. Finally, I realized who’d been lighting him up…
When it seemed like the entire Marian and Wilde clan showed up as soon as the bakery opened its doors for the day.
9
Miller
One good thing about growing up without a large family is avoiding the embarrassment that comes with it.
“OMG, there he is!” Otto squealed, making an overly dramatic deal about my presence in the kitchen with Darius.
Sassy put her hands on her hips. “Did he force you to work here? Because I know from experience working in a bakery is no joke. It’s like doing hard time, man. Hard. Time.”
Rebecca Marian flapped her hand at them. “Hush. Look at that sweet man. He’s covered in love dust.”
Granny pushed her way to the front. “Pretty sure it’s crank or toot. You know… nose candy. Snow.” She opened her mouth to say more, but Irene placed her long bony fingers over Granny’s flapping jaws to stop her.
Rebecca ignored them. “We’re just here to pick up Mikey’s order since his regular delivery man is…” She grinned at me. “Otherwise engaged.”