Page 6 of Quinn

Like moths to a flame, the petite woman was surrounded by most of the crew reaching around, chewing, muttering, and raving about the surprise treat.

With the tray being passed around, and everybody loving the fresh baked goods, the chef rocked on the balls of her feet, and smiled as if she’d been given an Academy Award for cooking. Looking extremely content with herself, and awfully cute to boot, she turned and took a step inside. “If it’s okay, I’d love to check the spacing.”

At his and Valerie’s nod, she strode into the building and quickly pulled a measuring tape from her pocket. Moving through the space with purpose, she checked corners, examined surfaces, nodding to herself at every turn.

“The ventilation system?” she called out.

Quinn took a step closer. “Commercial grade. Top of the line. Meets both yours and the architect’s specifications.”

Her sunny grin made her caramel colored eyes sparkle. “Good. The gas lines?”

“Tested yesterday.”

Ryan wandered over, chomping away on a massive pastry. “These are amazing.”

“Thank you,” she called out, not looking up from her measurements. “I’m not really a baker, but I did a brief stint in Paris and learned a few tricks.”

Swallowing another bite, Ryan turned to his brother. “Aren’t you going to try one?”

Glancing at the last two pastries in the tray someone had set down on a pair of saw horses, he debated between shaking his head on principle and pouncing on the sweet treat before they were all gone.

Still nodding and smiling at the layout of her new kitchen, Eloise called over her shoulder at no one in particular, “Coffee’s probably getting cold too.”

Gleefully rubbing her hands together, Valerie leaned into both Ryan and Quinn. “I love surprises like this. The human touch. The viewers will eat this up—a woman who knows what she wants and within minutes of her arrival has the whole crew, literally, eating out of her hands. This is going to be our best episode yet.”

Quinn watched as Chef Carey paced out the dining room space, muttering calculations under her breath. She moved like someone who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. Each step precise, each measurement careful. Somehow, despite the thoughtful glare, she still managed to sport the slightest of smiles.

She spun to face him, those same caramel eyes with specks of gold were bright with intelligence and something that looked suspiciously like amusement.

Morgan appeared at his shoulder, biting into a second—or was it his third—croissant. “If you spoil us like this every day, we’re all going to be rolled out of here in a wheel barrow.”

Reaching for the last croissant, Valerie took a bite and moaned. “Oh my, these are as good as Toni’s. Maybe better.” Immediately, her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes rounded like an insomniac owl. “Oh, dear. Don’t tell her I said that.”

A wave of chuckles moved through the room, but Morgan was the one to lean over, kiss his wife on the tip of her nose, and with adoring eyes that made Quinn both delighted that after all this time his brother was still so happy, and a bit envious that he had yet to find the love of his life, whispered just loud enough for Quinn to hear, “Your secrets are always safe with me.”

Valerie’s cheeks flushed with a tinge of dark rose and somehow Quinn suddenly felt like he was invading their privacy.

Measuring tape still in hand, and one side of her mouth tipped higher than the other in a cute little grin, the new chef chuckled softly, the sound warming the updated space. “If you like my pastries, wait until you taste my beef bourguignon. That will make your taste buds really sing.”

Did taste buds sing? Quinn snatched the last pastry, took a bite, bit back a delighted moan, and had to wonder, would these have tasted so dang good if Eloise were a man?

Chapter Four

A beat-up old truck pulled into the front of the soon-to-be new restaurant in town. A woman in worn jeans, a long sleeve checkered shirt, and a tan cowboy hat hopped out of the passenger door, a large gray dog a leap behind her. Hurrying onto the old wooden sidewalk, the woman surveyed the room with a quick glance and smiled at no one in particular. “Sorry I’m late, but Gray here refused to stay home.”

Finishing up her inspection of the kitchen and dining room, Eloise got the feeling from the way everyone in the place stopped that this woman was someone important.

“Is he here? Does he like it? What did I miss?”

Ryan chuckled and casting a sideways glance to his brother Morgan, bit back his smile, and raised what was left of his croissant. “Well, the morning baked goods were a hit.”

“Oh.” The woman’s eyes widened. “He bakes too?”

The gray dog heeling at her side perked his ears with interest, his gaze seemed to be studying Eloise. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the dog understood she was the baker and wanted a treat too.

Footsteps pounded against the wooden walkway, slowing as the two women from the B&B raced through the doorway. Hands on their chests, anyone would think they’d run a marathon and not a few yards down Main Street. “Oh, Eileen, you’re here. Have they told you about the problem?”

“They? Problem?” The woman’s gaze narrowed.

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