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 shook my head. “I haven’t met them all yet. I’ve seen them at a party, but that wasn’t an introduction as much as a ‘hey how’s it going’ kind of thing.”
To think that the family would treat her so dismally.
That was sad.
Because from what I’d seen so far, she was a great person.
She loved cupcakes, so that automatically put her on a level with ‘awesome people that like my cupcakes.’
“Used to,” she said as she continued to eye the cupcake. “I would never, ever eat something like this. If I don’t make it myself, then it’s no good. But then Jeremiah got to know me a bit and wormed his way inside.” She tapped her chest right above her heart. “And now I can eat his food. And, I guess, now yours. I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to do it had I not wanted it so bad and having just met you,” she continued on. “But if Jeremiah trusts you to work in his shop, then you’re automatically all right in my book.”
I continued with the feeling there was more here going on than I would know for right now. Mostly because that was when her husband walked back in with a glass for her milk and Jeremiah at his heels.
“Here,” he said as he handed it to me.
I didn’t take it. “Milk’s in the fridge, dear.”
Bram’s eyes narrowed, but when Dory started to giggle, his eyes lightened and the muscles in his jaw started to thaw.
“That okay with you?” he asked her. “If I get it?”
Oh, yes. There was much more of a story that I was sure Jeremiah knew something about.
“Yes,” Dory said warily, the smile wiping off of her face completely upon hearing her husband’s question.
CHAPTER 13
You are my favorite thing to do.
-Coffee cup
JEREMIAH
“What was the camera crew for?” Gracelynn asked curiously.
I looked over at her and had to bite my goddamn tongue again.
The pants she was wearing.
Goddamn, did they make her ass look fuckin’ fantastic.
That’d been my problem the entire fuckin’ morning.
There I was, trying to get shit done, and all I could think about was how great her ass looked in those fuckin’ pants.
Like, who the fuck thought making them look like that was a good idea?
Worse, why the hell had she put them on?
She was wearing a black pair of leggings with a black shirt that looked like it was just a smidge too short.
As in, every time she reached up for something, or turned just right, I would get a flash of skin.
Bram, luckily, chose that moment to walk in between Gracelynn and me, allowing me to get back to her question, and not the shape of her ass.
“They’re doing a documentary on this girl that comes in here a lot. She got famous on YouTube, then she moved to TikTok. She makes like a million a month in monetary donations, and then all the advertising and shit that she gets off of her videos. Not to mention all the free shit she gets for being a brand ambassador or some shit,” I grumbled. “Anyway, the crew wanted permission to set up and get ready before she came in. Which I denied. They’re now setting up outside waiting for her.”
“The exposure would be good for you, though.” She raised a brow at me in question, letting me know without words that she thought I’d made a mistake by not letting them in.
She might be right.
But, had she known me more, she would know that I didn’t want the exposure.
I wanted to run my bakery how I wanted to. And if I wanted to take off for four days and not come in and cook, then that was what I’d fucking do. It’d only make it even harder to do that if the bakery got even more popular.
“You don’t know Jeremiah at all then, do you?” Bram chuckled as he leaned against the counter across the room. “Jeremiah doesn’t like all the attention. And that’s definitely attention he would be getting if they were inside.”
“Hmm,” Gracelynn said.
I looked over at Dory then. Upon seeing the look on her face, I walked over to her and picked up another cupcake before handing it to her.
She smiled softly at me, and a feeling of satisfaction rolled through me.
When I’d first met the girl, she wouldn’t eat anything.
Not at the parties that we went to. Not at my brother’s place.
So I’d made it my mission to get her to eat.
And eventually, she did.
But that was only as I got to know her, slowly.
At first, she would only take prepackaged food.
Then, eventually, I got her to take some of my food—things that were hard to mess up like cookies and cupcakes.
Eventually, though, I got her eating the actual food that I’d make. The ones that could possibly make you sick if done incorrectly.