Page 22 of Make Mine Sweet
“I need to come in one day this summer to get a bike for August,” I tell him.
“We have a few different beginner bikes that would be great for him. Training wheels and helmets too, if you want.”
Shepherd doesn’t look at Wren but probably knows already that she’s glaring. She’s had a hate-on for him for the last two years and doesn’t show any sign of giving up her grudge soon.
“Nice upsell,” she mutters.
“I’ll be in with him to pick something out.” I put on a cheery smile to make up for her snark.
He finally turns to her. “What’s fresh today?”
She huffs, spreading her arms out wide. “It’s all fresh every day.”
“Are you sure?” His mouth ticks beneath his short, dark beard, not quite allowing himself to smile as he challenges her.
They’re like children sometimes. They go through this back and forth every week, asking simple questions loaded with…honestly, I don’t even know what. Loathing? Business rivalry? Repressed attraction?
Wren might strangle me if I mentioned that last one. Still. The air getschargedwhenever they’re together.
“Am I sure?” she seethes back. “Are you seriously that?—”
“Wren.” I don’t care if she has a thousand good reasons to hate him, she can’t take it out on him in our store. Positive reviews only in here.
She rests her fists on her hips in an unnecessarily aggressive stance. “I’m sure. That’s what we do here. We bake pies.”
Her voice has gone sugary sweet, more babyish than she’d ever speak even to August. Shepherd listens as though she’s not talking to him like he’s a toddler.
“I watched Tess make all the cupcakes and the peach, strawberry cream cheese, and chocolate mint pies. I made the blackberry, strawberry-rhubarb, and key lime pies. Is my first-hand account enough for you, or do you need a notarized statement of their freshness?”
“No, I’m good,” he says easily. He has to know his calm attitude only irritates her more.
She purses her lips together, most certainly holding back a retort about how he is anything butgood.
“I’ll take one of the blackberry,” he says.
“A slice?”
“Whole, please.”
She boxes up a blackberry pie, her cheeks pink, hands trembling. She tells him the total, and he slides some cash across the counter. When she gives him his change, their fingers brush before he drops the money into the tip jar.
I don’t notice to be weird, but it’s happening right in front of me. My eyes have nothing better to observe.
“Always a thrill to see you, Krause.” He turns and nods my way. “Tess.”
I lift a hand. “See you.”
Wren stays perfectly still until he’s left the bakery and disappeared from view out the front windows. Once he’s gone, she exhales, shaking out her hands.
I step closer to her. “Did you still want to talk about men who make eyes at us over pie?”
The strange expression on her face hardens. “Oh, please.”
I wouldn’t normally push about imaginary romantic relationships, but after a morning of enduring the same, I’ve got a little to give back.
“He comes in every week like clockwork, but only on days you’re working.”
Her lips flatten into a hard line. “So he can be a jerk especially to me.”
