Say Yes to a Mess (Dreamspun Desires Book 103) by Elle Brownlee

Author:Elle Brownlee [Brownlee, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 9781644055618
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2020-11-16T18:30:00+00:00

FIVE arrived, too early and unwanted, but Wiley had given up on sleep and headed for the bakery at four thirty. He was bleary-eyed and yawning, so Carla shoved a vat of coffee into his hands, sat him in the comfy wingback chair in the corner of the kitchen, and told him to warm up a little so he didn’t ruin anything.

“What else are you doing with your day?”

Wiley blinked into his coffee and shrugged. “Go for a long walk? Laundry? Put the village away? Wide-open possibilities here.”

Carla planted a floury hand on her hip. “Did a village get misplaced?”

“Grandma’s village—you know, it sits on the shelves over the windows at home. We’re using houses as reception centerpieces. It’s a whole—” He frowned at her smile. “You watched the stream. You know what I’m talking about. Stop testing me so early in the morning.”

“That seems like a very not-Kit decision.”

“It is because it wasn’t.” Wiley chuckled. “I unwittingly took the wrong cue and went with the wrong choice filming the décor segment. But—ask me if I mind dot com.”

“Ooh, a bit of rebellion. I approve.” Carla grabbed Wiley’s apron from its peg and tossed it toward him. “You’re talking in multisyllables and full sentences. Time to start the caramel cranapple scones.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Wiley stretched as he stood and downed the rest of his coffee. He wrapped into the apron and brought the ties around front, making a tight knot low at his waist.

A cool draft swept behind him as he soaped up and scrubbed his hands.

“I always feel so official and ready to tackle anything once I have this thing on. Totally dorky but totally true.”

“You look official and ready to tackle anything. Do I get one?”

Wiley almost twisted his head off turning to see Holt standing in the open back door. He fought a spontaneous huge grin and also started yawning again, so he figured he wound up looking like an angry gargoyle.

“Good morning. Am I late?” Holt accepted the mug of coffee Carla handed him. “Manna from heaven, thank you.”

“Have as much as you want—that and the tea I promised yesterday. And nope. Wiley’s early, and five is well after I get started every day. No big.”

“Glad to hear it. The endless caffeinated beverages part especially. I’ve never worked in a bakery, so I’d hate for my first day to be a disaster.”

“Morning,” Wiley said thickly after yawning again. He rummaged in a box of linens on one of the wire shelving racks and dug out an enormous blue-ticked apron. Some kitchen supply company had sent it as promotional swag after they’d opened, and he and Carla had laughed at its hugeness and took a picture with them both in it. It was decided the apron was faulty and sent to them to get rid of it as much to sell them on the company’s silicone baking trays and trivets.

That picture was still on the friends-and-family wall that ran from the bakery’s front door to the start of the glass cases.

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