The Fiancé Deal: A Small Town Romance by Crystal Monroe

Author:Crystal Monroe [Monroe, Crystal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Hazel

Sunday morning is my least favorite shift at the bakery.

It always starts off painfully slow while most of the town is in church. I have to find things to keep myself busy sometimes.

Then it gets crazy. Pastries and coffees. People doing their weekly shopping. And so many donuts sold.

I don’t know what it is about Sunday that makes people crave fried dough, but I know I sure am glad Quinn’s here to help me out today. Linden called me this morning claiming she didn’t feel great.

I’m pretty sure she’s hungover—because I know I am—but I’m not the kind of boss who’s going to make a big deal about it. She’s young enough that she’s still learning her limits. And it seemed like something was up with her last night at the barbeque.

If she needs a day off work to deal with it, she doesn’t have to justify it to me. I get it.

But I’d be screwed without Quinn here. When the peak rush hits, we have a line out the door even with both registers going. We work well together, and he never seems to get frantic or stressed like I do.

Finally, we take care of everyone in line, and things start to slow down.

We can breathe. Maybe take a break. Hydrate.

Quinn wipes the sweat off his forehead and blows out a breath. So maybe it did tire him out a little bit.

“It’s like this every Sunday?” he asks.

“It’s a little worse this time of year, but yeah, pretty much. You should see it on a holiday. Easter? Mother’s Day? It’s like a hurricane came through this place,” I say, wiping down the counter.

He sure looks good sweaty.

Who am I kidding? Quinn always looks good. Clean, dirty, half-asleep with bedhead—it doesn’t matter. There’s a reason he’s won literal awards for being sexy.

“Take a break if you need it,” I add.

“Are you going to take a break?” he asks.

“I need to refill the display case.”

“What do I need to do?” he asks.

“Quinn, it’s all right, I—”

“I’ll take a break when we can both sit down for a minute. What can I do next?” he asks. I’m sure he’s really hoping for a make-out session in the back or something, but it’s still a sweet sentiment.

“There are six trays of bread in the proofer that you can put in the oven. Put those muscles to good work,” I tease.

Fully loaded, the sheet pans weigh upwards of twenty pounds each, so I’m more than happy to offload that job onto Quinn.

“I put them to pretty good work last night,” he says under his breath, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I laugh, snapping my towel at him. “I thought you wanted to be useful?”

He disappears into the back, laughing with me.

I’ve just about finished with the display case when the door chime sounds, letting me know there’s a new customer.

“Welcome to Wildflo—Oh, hi, Mrs. Stryker,” I finish. My cheerful greeting quickly morphs into suspicion.

Quinn’s mother never comes to the bakery. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her here.

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