Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I heard her practically choke behind me, so I turned to see her with her hand on her chest, holding a cinnamon roll away from her lips.
“What?” I asked.
“I just…” She hesitated. “I never expected you to acknowledge it again. As far as the two of us are concerned, we’ve bonded over a passion for baking and books. That’s it.”
The way the statement made my dick hard was probably not a great sign.
“Agreed.” I pointed to the kitchen sink. “You didn’t do the dishes.”
She took a bite of a cinnamon roll, licked her lips clean, and then said, “I don’t do them. If you hire me, you should probably know that.”
CHAPTER 6
Never trust a skinny cook.
-Gracelynn’s secret thoughts
GRACELYNN
A long time ago, my father used to force me to do the dishes until my hands were cracked and bleeding. Pot after pot, baking dish after baking dish. I was the only one in the household that had to do them because my father hated me.
My hands would be submerged for hours while I cleaned dish after dish.
I thought for sure that Jeremiah would have a problem with me not doing them, refusing to do them, but of course, the hot man in front of me never took anything how I expected him to.
With a shrug, he said, “I don’t either. I guess Jessey will just love us both when she has to do them all.”
“Jessey?” I asked curiously.
The hot stab of jealousy was something that I didn’t want to think about. I hated that I even had it, and let’s not even think about having the feeling for a man I’d known less than twenty-four hours. A man that was my boss. A man that was now, forever, off limits.
“The girl that cleans up my mess.” Jeremiah paused. “And, now, I guess yours.”
I nodded my head and said, “Would you like to take me to the bakery? Show me what you expect?”
“I’m going to take you there, but first we’re going to stop at the bulk foods store. And you’re riding in the company van. We can come back for your truck later when I’m done at the shop,” he answered.
Thirty minutes later, I was standing in front of a display case of flour. Flour that weighed fifty something pounds per bag. And Jeremiah Flanagan Crow—my god, what a list of names—was throwing them onto the flat cart like they weighed half an ounce.
“How many of those are you going to get?” I wondered. “And are you going to be able to push it all?”
He laughed, not stopping until he had ten bags, stacked in two rows, six high and four high.
My eye twitched when I saw the unevenness.
“Why do you look like you’re about to sneeze?” he asked once he was done.
I pointed at the two uneven piles and said, “I’m just thinking that I might need to even those out before we can go anywhere else in the store.”
He snorted and fixed it for me, giving me a raised eyebrow when he was done.
My lips turned up into a smirk as I said, “I knew that you’d give me what I wanted after last night.”
Then I slapped my hand across my mouth and gave him wide eyes the moment that the words were out of my mouth.
“Grab your cart, girl. We got more shit to get,” he ordered.
Funny thing was, I jumped to do his bidding, grabbing my own empty flat cart and following him throughout the store.
In the end, he ended up dragging his own cart and helping me push mine, because it was just that heavy.
“I never even knew they made a fifty-pound box of butter,” I admitted as I helped push across the parking lot.
The sound of bikes had Jeremiah looking in the sound’s direction, and I nearly tripped over him and the cart when he came to an abrupt halt.
My hands went to Jeremiah’s back, and I squawked all lady-like when I ended up all but plastered against his tall, muscular body.
My hands went down to his lower back, and I pressed away from him, but only far enough that I could see the man straddling his bike that was now in front of us.
“Jesus Christ.” Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “Why do you have to be such a dumbass?”
I stifled a snicker as I moved out from behind him and saw the… entire Battle Crows MC straddling their bikes. But it was the one that teased Jeremiah relentlessly yesterday that had nearly caused Jeremiah to run into him with the cart.
“I’m not a dumbass, Uncle Jerry.” Shine pressed his hand to his heart. “Why do you talk to me like I’m not your favorite?”
Shine’s eyes came to me just as he’d finished his sentence.
His smile went electric as he said, “Whooa-ho-hoa! You still with this one?”