Page 30 of The Alpha and the Baker
“Hello?” I said, even though I knew exactly who was calling. After all, I only knew oneCastiel Reunion Client.
“Hey! Those are my keys. I must have left them in the center console when I drove you home. Luckily, they’re just my car and tractor keys. My house keys were in my pocket.”
Whew, that was good. I would hate to think that I’d gotten him locked out of his house after everything he’d done for me. It was so rare in life to meet a true gentleman, and I was certain Cas was exactly that.
“Oh! I must have grabbed them out of habit when I was getting out of the car,” I murmured. Everything was still so messy and blended together in my head. But what did stand out to me was our faces close together, his heart beating against mine with the iron bar of his forearm across the small of my back. I’d never felt much like a leading lady before, but in that moment? That feeling was seared into my head permanently. “Did you happen to see what I did getting out?”
“Unfortunately, I was already out of the car and coming around to open your door.”
“Open my door? How chivalrous.”
“I’d like to say my mama raised me right.”
Grinning, I leaned against the counter, my to-do list temporarily forgotten. “So far I’d agree. You haven’t given me any reason to think otherwise.”
“You flatter me, ma’am.”
“Please, you’ve seen me way too tipsy to call me ‘ma’am’. It’s definitely Felicia by now.”
“Hah, I s’pose that makes some sense.”
“Are you home now? I can drive them out for you as soon as I close up shop this afternoon.”
I was offering because it was the right thing to do, but also, I definitely wasn’t opposed to seeing Cas again. And maybe any one of the two dozen or so of the working dogs they had on the property. Obviously, I wouldn’t bother them if they were busy.
“Actually, I’m out and about with my friend right now. We can just swing by in a bit. About fifteen minutes?”
“Oh!” So no working dogs, but seeing Cas was still pretty great. “Yeah, that works. I’ll unlock the front door so you can come in.”
“Awesome. See you then.”
“See you!”
I didn’t even try to hide my goofy grin as I ended the call. It wasn’t like anyone was around to see me. But that giddy feeling faded pretty quickly when I looked down. Oh my god, I was a mess. Sure, I’d showered—it had been necessary to feel alive with my wicked hangover—but I hadn’t put on my baker’s uniform. I was wearing a loose T-shirt and sweatpants that were now spattered with flour and other various ingredients.
I didn’t want to look like a slob, especially since Cas had already seen me in my baker’s uniform. The logical part of my brain told me he probably wouldn’t even notice, but it was a point of pride.
I knew it was a touch hokey and maybe even a little old-fashioned that I wore a uniform in my own shop, but it was my prerogative. It made me feel extra proud of my accomplishment, like wearing a personal badge of honor. Besides, it reminded me of how my mother had hand-embroidered my initials into the very first uniform I ever had, and how she’d clapped with happiness the first day I wore it to work.
Right. I definitely needed to change.
With yet again one more look to make sure everything was good and nothing was burning, I hustled upstairs with only minimal complaints from my stomach, which only gurgled in displeasure rather than roiling outright. A marked improvement from earlier.
It didn’t take me long to get dressed, and I was back downstairs just in time to unlock the front door and straighten my ponytail before anything burned or I got behind. Although I would much rathernotbe hungover, I was thrilled at how I was getting through my morning and had almost caught up with my rather sizable to-do list. Proof that I was competent, even if my business wasn’t doing so good.
A knock sounded at the door, and I looked up from where I was arranging my jalapeno-and-onion bagels to see Casstanding at the door. I waved him in. A quick glance to the clock on my wall told me that he’d taken just a little over fifteen minutes. Maybe it was the baker in me, but I did love punctuality.
“Wow, it smells amazing in here,” he said, the crooked smile on his face reminding me of when he offered his hand to me. Although I wasn’t tipsy now, it still made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
“Thanks. I’m almost done with prep. Sundays are my big day.”
“Really?” he asked, coming over to my display case and looking things over. I was acutely aware of just how close he was, and although we were surrounded with all sorts of baking scents, the only thing I could smell was his cologne. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“It’s mostly the church crowd. Gotta love their demand for donuts and bagels.”
“Right, I forgot that was a thing.”
That was an interesting little tidbit. “What? So you’re telling me that you’re not a part of a hyper-religious commune?”
