Page 8 of Merry Little Sugar Rush
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I state, grinning from ear to ear and trying not to think about exactly how hard his body felt when I hugged him.
But then it hits me as towhyhe’s likely here, and I quickly sober.
“Yeah, me either,” he says softly, his soulful dark eyes locked on mine. It causes my heart to skip a beat and my breathing to quicken. “Listen, I know you’re busy. Hell, I’m heading back out to the farm for work. But I wanted to drop by and say hello. Plus, my stomach’s growling and whatever you have in that case smells delicious,” he adds with a grin and a wink.
“Well, do I have a treat for you, my old friend,” I tease, returning to behind the counter and offering a quick apology to those lined up behind him. “What can I get you to drink?” I ask, while pulling both an eggnog muffin and an apple fritter from the case and slipping them inside a white paper bag.
“Regular coffee, with extra sugar and cream, please,” he says, making me grin once more. Burk always liked the sweets when we were growing up, so it doesn’t surprise me he adds plenty to his coffee.
“Here,” Jan says, handing over the drink.
“How much?” Burk asks, pulling some bills from his wallet.
“Your money’s no good here, Burkey Turkey,” I insist with a wink.
He huffs out a deep breath and shakes his head, turning to his right and slipping the cash inside the tip jar. “You can’t make money if you don’t charge, Easy-Bake.”
“Yeah, well, that’s for me to worry about.”
Burk reaches for the bag and coffee but hesitates to leave. There’s a line of customers behind him, but all I want to do is stand here and talk to my old friend some more. “Maybe I’ll see you around and we can catch up?”
“I’d love that,” I reply. “If you come to the pageant tonight, stop by and see us.”
He nods, taking a step to his right to allow the next customer to approach the counter. “You still sit by the big oak tree?”
“You know it,” I reply, again with a grin. I can’t seem to stop smiling.
He nods. “I’ll see what time I get done at the farm, but I’m serious about catching up, Easy-Bake.”
“Me too, Burkey Turkey.” I can’t believe how easily we fall into an old, familiar banter, even though it’s been fifteen years.
He lifts his chin and adds, “Talk to you soon.”
“Have a good day,” I reply, shamelessly watching as he walks toward the front entrance. He’s wearing work boots, jeans, a thick winter coat, and a stocking cap on his head, but I can still see the niceness of his ass through the worn denim. He pushes out the door and walks past the front window.
“Girl,” Jan sings just over my left shoulder. “That boy is f-i-n-e, fine, and his eyes were all over you.”
A blush creeps up my neck, as I do everything I can to brush off her comment. “Please,” I reply with a tsk. “He’s practically my oldest friend. I haven’t seen him since the summer before our freshman year of high school.”
“Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that.”
I roll my eyes and give every bit of attention I can to my customers. They keep us hopping and we’re busier thanexpected on a Saturday morning, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. Seeing people enjoy my pastries is the highlight of my life. It’ll never get old, even when I’m exhausted and my feet hurt from standing for fourteen hours a day. The satisfaction I feel makes every early morning and late night worth it.
“Do you want me to come back later?” Jan asks when the morning rush finally dies down.
“No, Krista and I have it covered. It’s easy when you’re only offering two snack and two drink options,” I tell my faithful employee. Jan has worked for me since I opened four years ago and doesn’t mind working five days a week. She also doesn’t require medical insurance, since her husband carries it, so that’s a plus for me. Insurance is expensive enough when you’re self-employed, which is why I carry the bare minimum on myself.
Krista helps me during these types of special events, where I’m only open a few hours and have a very select menu. She’s been doing it since I opened, and I’m so grateful for my closest friend. She does it for free, insisting she be paid in pastries and coffee.
“Well, I’ll be around if you get swamped and need help,” she informs me, hanging her apron on a hook in the kitchen and clocking out.
It’s just after one and she’s off for the day. My regular business hours are six to two, but I often host pop-up events, especially during the holidays. Plus, since I live right upstairs, it’s easy to make arrangements with customers for pick-up orders. After work is the most popular time for meeting a customer, and fortunately, I’m super close.
“Thanks, Jan. Enjoy the festival kickoff tonight,” I reply as she makes her way to the back entrance.
“You too!”
When I’m bathed in silence, my mind instantly returns to thinking about Burk. I can’t believe he’s here, back in SnowflakeFalls. I remember the night he came to me and said he was leaving, that his dad and grandpa got into a huge fight. Within two short weeks, their entire lives were packed up into a large U-Haul, and they were headed for the East Coast.
