Page 52 of Noel I Won’t
“The owners have a sense of humor,” I said with a grin. “So when downtown revitalized and a lot of the businesses renamed themselves, they did this.”
Noel followed me inside, still chuckling over the name. The scent of sugar, cinnamon, and burned coffee hit us immediately. Kevin hopped up from a table, where he sat with his brother, Hunter, and hurried over, wearing tight, clingy jeans and a black sweatshirt with a hood sporting cat ears.
“Hey!” Kevin said, greeting us. “Thanks for meeting up.”
“Of course.” Noel handed him the menu. “I want to make sure you like everything in the lineup and that there are no allergy concerns. If anything at all doesn’t match your vision for the evening?—”
Kevin laughed, looking at me. “He’s kidding, right?”
“He’s not. He wants it to be perfect.”
Noel looked confused. “What am I missing?”
Kevin shook his head, affecting disappointment. “It’s just that you think we’re sophisticated enough to question your judgment when you’re an amazing chef.”
Noel rolled his eyes. “I’m not that amazing.”
“Trust me, you’ve got better taste than me and my brother. My parents will be thanking you profusely for saving them from a dinner made by us.”
Noel laughed at that. “Just look over the menu while we order. Then I’ll answer any questions you might have.”
“Will do.”
We turned to the glass counter, where Miles was waiting, eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. “What do we have here, Hopper? Might he be…” He gasped and raised a hand over his mouth. “A virgin?”
Noel’s eyes widened. “I haven’t been accused of that in a few years.”
Miles grinned. “A Glazed Hole virgin, I mean.” He leaned over the counter. “And if that’s not clear enough, a Glazed Holedoughnut shopvirgin is what I mean.”
He waggled his eyebrows.
Noel turned to me. “Just how slutty do I look?”
Miles barked a laugh. “Oh, I like you. So, what will you two be having today?” He pointed to the case. “We’ve got some delish blackcurrant jelly rolls. New recipe.”
“Ooh, sign me up,” Noel said.
I ordered a cup full of their plain glazed doughnut holes. Miles shook his head and clucked. He tossed in a gingerbread cake doughnut topped with molasses. “On the house, so you’re not totally boring.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
He looked at Noel, smiling enigmatically. “A new flavor can be fun.”
Noel and I haggled over who should pay for the doughnuts, but I won by reminding him that the dinner party for Kevin was a favor to me.
I thrust my bank card out to Miles.
“Dinner party, huh? You’re a chef.” He glanced at Noel with interest. “Do you have a business card?”
“Oh, no, I’m just visiting town,” Noel said. “My parents own the Grisold Tree Farm on the highway about twenty minutes from here.”
“Oh. Too bad. Jake’s grandma has a ninetieth birthday coming up. Would have been fun to do something special.”
He rang up the sale, then handed back my card. I picked up our bag of doughnuts and followed Noel over to the table where Kevin and Hunter sat.
They made an odd pair of brothers, one a femboy who wore makeup better than most fashion models, his hair highlighted in pink, and rocking glittery nails with little Christmas tree decals, and the other in business-casual attire, a conservative haircut, and a nice layer of stubble over a square jaw.
They had more in common than at first glance, though, because Hunter was happily married to a man.
