The Bachelor Baker Read online

  Lily, in the hopes of advertising her own business, had supplied the arrangements that complemented the white-and-pink-striped cloth Melissa had used to cover the table Brian had supplied. Their table wasn’t as elaborate as some with their banners and tents, but Melissa felt she and Brian had a pleasant and unified presentation for their first time at the farmer’s market.

  “Of course, honey,” the woman said. She looked over the empty spaces on the table, frowning. “You don’t have much stock left.”

  “It’s been a busy day,” Melissa said, setting out the last of the loaves of apricot bread.

  It was almost three o’clock, and ever since the market had opened at ten o’clock, the number of people coming through the market had slowly increased and their stock had steadily decreased.

  Now, the buzz of conversation and laughter and the sound of hawkers competing with each other for people’s attention created an energy that made Melissa smile. The market was set up in a park with the choice booth sites placed in the shade of the large, spreading oak trees dotting the open space. Most had brightly striped canopies with their names emblazoned on a banner across the top; some had a simple tent to shade their wares and customers from the sun.

  She and Brian, newcomers to the market, were sent to the farthest corner, against the parking lot and out in the open. But in spite of being one of the most remote tables, they had done a brisk business.

  “We’ll have to bring more stuff if we do this again,” Brian said tucking the cash the woman had given him in the large metal box he had on a stand under the table.

  “I’m still amazed we’ve sold as much as we have so quickly.”

  “You’ve got some unique goods to offer. Giving out samples was a genius idea. It created some good word of mouth.” Brian gave her a quick smile before he turned to their next customers, a couple of women who were eyeing the tarts Melissa had set out.

  While he was busy, her phone sent out a quacking sound, meaning that Amanda was returning Melissa’s text. As Melissa pulled her phone out of her pocket, she turned away from him and texted Amanda back. Melissa had been texting Amanda all morning making sure everything was okay at the bakery. A couple of times Brian had threatened to take her phone away. This was the first time she had been away from the bakery, however, and she was concerned.

  Brian shot her a frown as she slipped the phone into her pocket, but then he turned his attention back to the women who were hovering by his end of the table.

  “What can we do for you beautiful ladies?” Brian asked, resting his hands on the table.

  Melissa wanted to roll her eyes. He was laying it on a bit thick, but the women laughed, ignoring her when Brian told them who had made the cakes and tarts they were admiring.

  He chatted with them, telling them what items were still available. He made sure to point out the flower arrangements Lily had made and encouraged them to take her business card. As Melissa watched him engage with the women, she suspected that his blue eyes that crinkled at the corners, his strong jaw enhanced by a shadow of stubble, his broad smile and even broader shoulders were a part of the reason they were doing such good business.

  As one of the women laughed, tossing her head in a frankly flirtatious gesture, Melissa couldn’t help a flare of jealousy, which surprised her. Then Brian looked her way, his expression softened and she got what she, at one time, had wished for—a genuine smile.

  She felt her cheeks flush in response, and she turned back to the van to take out the last pies and the last set of tarts. They had borrowed the van from Miss Ann Mars. Brian had fixed it up in exchange for being able to use it from time to time.

  The women left and Brian whistled a happy tune as he put the cash in the box, then looked around over the milling crowd as if seeking out new customers.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Melissa asked in a teasing voice as she closed the cooler. She tried to keep her tone light, but her previous moment of insecurity, when Brian was laughing with those women, surprised and dismayed her. Though things were shifting between her and Brian, she felt she had left herself enough of an emotional buffer. A space she could retreat to if she felt too vulnerable.

  But Brian seemed to be working his way closer and closer to her heart. The thought excited and scared her at the same time.

  “I like interacting with people in this kind of setting. It’s less formal and more fun than in the bakery.” He nodded, giving her a quick wink. “But best of all, I get to work alongside you.”

  As he spoke he had lowered his voice and taken a couple steps closer, creating a quiet intimacy. He threaded her fingers in his and as their eyes held she felt anticipation rise in her chest.

  Melissa turned away from him and was surprised to see her hands trembling as she fussed with the table, sweeping off a few errant crumbs, needlessly adjusting the wares. Busy work, she realized. Work to keep her mind off her reaction to Brian. She went back to the van to get some more supplies, a tiny feeling of uncertainty marring the afternoon.

  Shouldn’t she be more careful? Shouldn’t she keep her focus on her bakery?

  She sent up a quick prayer for wisdom. Guidance. And when she returned to the table, she felt a little calmer.

  “Well, that’s the last of what we brought,” she said, as she set out the last two pies and a couple of cakes.

  “That’s great. I was hoping we’d be done early,” Brian said.

  She was about to ask why when her phone buzzed again and she turned, taking a quick peek at it.

  It was Amanda returning her text as Melissa had requested, telling her that everything was fine.

  “How much for the pie?” an elderly man asked her, drawing her attention away from her phone.

  When she told the customer the price, he frowned, his thick grey eyebrows pulling together like two small caterpillars. “Another lady, a few tables down, is selling hers for two bucks less,” he griped, tugging on an equally gray beard.

  “She must be doing a good business,” Brian put in, coming to stand beside Melissa.

  “Naw. Still has a bunch left. I bought one last week. They’re not that good.”

  “That’s too bad,” Brian said. “These, however, are amazing pies. The kind of pie that makes you lie awake at night wishing you’d bought two instead of one. The kind of pie that, when you do fall asleep, will give you sweet dreams.”

  Melissa stifled a quick chuckle, still surprised at this side of Brian. Lighthearted, quick with words and smiling.

  “I make them with fresh ingredients,” Melissa put in, realizing how prosaic she sounded compared to Brian. “And they’re a full inch larger than conventional pies.”

  “So you get more pastry and less penitence,” Brian put in.

  The man chuckled at that, obviously won over. He bought two, which cleaned them out of pies.

  Ten minutes later all their stock was gone and she and Brian were taking down their table. A few more people stopped by, expressing their regrets. Brian promised they’d be back in two weeks with more Sweet Dreams goodness, adding that if they didn’t want to wait, they could come to Bygones and get whatever they wanted whenever they wanted.

  A few people promised to do just that and Melissa felt a strong sense of gratification that her mandate with the SOS Committee was being fulfilled.

  And it was all thanks to Brian.

  As they dismantled their site, they made plans on what they would do to improve the display. As they drove away from the park, Melissa settled back in the seat of the borrowed van, a heavy cash box sitting at her feet, a feeling of satisfaction settling on her heart. “I think that was worth our while,” she said, watching the houses of Concordia slip past. Homes.

  She felt a yearning for the same thing, a place of her own. Then she looked over at Brian, feeling a curious sense of anticipation.


  “Of course it was. Your stuff was a hit,” Brian said as he negotiated another turn.

  “You helped me prepare it,” she said. “You can take as much credit.”

  Brian shrugged off her compliment. “All I did was follow your instructions.”

  “But you followed those instructions so well.”

  “It’s what I do best these days,” he said with a light sigh.

  She shot him a concerned glance, wondering what he meant by that, but then he gave her a quick smile and she felt it again—a sense of contentment and something she had never felt around any other guy before.

  Peace.

  “Are you in a rush to get back to Bygones?” Brian asked, slowing down at the corner that would take them to the highway out of town.

  “Not really.”

  “’Cause I’m starving and man cannot live on apricot bread alone, so I was wondering if you want to go out for lunch.”

  The thought created a quiver of expectation. “Where...where would we go?”

  “There’s a cool Italian restaurant here in Concordia that my mom and dad used to go to on their anniversary. The food is great and filling.”

  “Sure. Sounds good.” She looked over at him, pleased at the sense of contentment she felt around him. It was like they fit together. They belonged together.

  The realization hit her like a burst of light.

  “What are you smiling at?” Brian asked, his gaze ticking from her to the road ahead.

  She hesitated, wondering if she dared articulate what she was feeling. Then her mind ticked back to that moment in church and afterward at the picnic when she and Brian raced and crossed the finish line together.

  The kiss they shared.

  She looked over at him, warmed by the light of his interest. “I want to thank you for your idea. Of coming to the farmer’s market here. It was a great idea.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad it worked out.” He shot her a quick smile.

  “It worked out to be fantastic. I think we’re creating some good word of mouth not only for the bakery but also for Lily’s business.”

  “And hopefully the others,” Brian added.

  Melissa caught her lip between her teeth. “I have to apologize for underestimating you. For not listening to you and your suggestions.”

  “So you’ll rethink the doughnut suggestion?”

  She laughed. “I wasn’t expecting that, but I might.”

  “I think you should. Doughnuts are basic and inexpensive to make other than the initial outlay for equipment. They’re a bakery staple. Many group functions like to supply them with coffee. Could be another good sideline.”

  “Sounds like you’ve done some homework on this,” she said, pleasantly surprised at his initiative.

  He shrugged. “Yeah. Some. Guess I was just trying to prove a point.”

  She held his gaze and a surprising feeling of connection braided with attraction rose between them. This matters to him. My bakery and my bakery’s success matter to him.

  The idea rested in her mind and created a sense of a place in which their being together was a hope to cling to.

  “You look like you just discovered a new recipe,” Brian said, his gaze ticking from her to the road ahead.

  “I feel like I have discovered something.”

  She looked over at him, warmed by the light of his interest. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever been with who creates this sense of well-being in me. The first guy who makes me feel...right. Complete.”

  “In spite of how we started out?” he asked, a teasing grin edging his mouth.

  “I think it might even be because of how we started off,” she said choosing her words as carefully as she would the spices for a cake. “You pushed back. You didn’t let me walk all over you the first time we met.”

  “Can’t say I’m so proud of the pushing back,” Brian said with a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t the nicest guy the first time we met. I was in a funk.”

  “I don’t blame you for that,” she said quietly. “Now that I’m getting to know Bygones better, I realize seeing the money going to out-of-town people who didn’t have as much invested in Bygones as you did must have been hard.”

  Brian was silent as he made another quick turn and parked in front of a small brick building with red curtains at the front windows. Wrought-iron tables and chairs shaded by red-and-white umbrellas dotted the front patio. Huge pots, overflowing with white-and-red petunias and greenery, flanked the doorway.

  As Brian switched off the engine, the scents of cheese, yeasty dough and garlic wafted into the van. Melissa felt her mouth water.

  “It was hard to see the money parceled out the way it was,” he admitted, his expression thoughtful. “But I’m also figuring out why. You have ideas I don’t think anyone else would have attempted and they’re working.” He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it in a gesture of affirmation. “When I saw how people stopped by our booth at the market, how they would smile when they saw your cake pops and your tarts and the amazing things you do with bread, I realized you were what Bygones needed. A breath of fresh air and a bunch of new ideas.”

  Melissa was momentarily taken aback at his little speech, then she released a gentle laugh. “But, Brian, the whole reason we were even at that farmer’s market was because of you. It was your idea.”

  He tilted his head to one side, a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought of it because I don’t know the area and don’t know what is available.” Then a thought struck her. “Maybe that’s another reason the SOS Committee wanted people from Bygones to be hired. Not only to give the town employment, but to help the owners of the business see the town through their eyes.”

  Brian nodded slowly, as if absorbing this piece of information. “Could be.”

  “And you’ve been an asset in many other ways. I know since you started business has picked up.”

  “I doubt that’s because of me,” he protested, flipping a dismissive hand.

  Melissa gave him a coy look. “Oh, I think it is. Just like we seemed to get quite a few women coming to our table today to ‘buy’ stuff,” she said, hooking her fingers to make air quotes. “They weren’t just coming for pies and cake pops.”

  “I think you’re ‘exaggerating’ a bit,” he said, making his own air quotes. “And now, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Shall we go in?” He gestured toward the restaurant.

  She had her door opened by the time he came around to her side of the van, and as she was about to get out, he took her hand and helped her down.

  “I can get out of a van by myself. I’m not that tired.”

  “I know you’re not. I’m just doing what my daddy taught me.”

  “Country manners?” she teased, still holding his hand as they walked up the bricked path and past the flower pots.

  “Manners, period,” he said, opening the door of the restaurant for her. “I like to take care of the women in my life.”

  He gave an exaggerated bow as he stepped aside for her to enter.

  Cool air washed over them, a welcome respite from the heat of the day, and Melissa blinked, her eyes adjusting from the bright sunlight to the darker interior.

  “Looks like a lovely place,” Melissa said, glancing around.

  High wooden booths flanked one wall of the restaurant, the rest of it taken up with wooden tables and mismatched chairs. Small pots of flowers, yellow, white and red, dotted the tables. The walls were exposed brick, aged and painted with tendrils of ivy and bright red flowers.

  A young woman wearing a white shirt and black skirt walked toward them holding large white menus. “Welcome to Adagio’s,” she said with a welcoming smile. “For two?”

 
“In the back courtyard, please,” Brian said.

  She nodded, escorted them halfway down the restaurant, then opened a side door. They entered a walled-in courtyard, large overhanging trees shading the two small wrought-iron tables sitting on the bricked patio. Red-and-white-striped umbrellas added more shade to the tables.

  As the waitress set the menus down on the table, Brian pulled out a chair for Melissa. She was touched by the courtly gesture and gave him a coy smile.

  The waitress lingered a moment, telling them the specials, her eyes on Brian the whole time. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

  “Melissa, would you like some water, iced tea, coffee?” Brian asked, looking pointedly at her.

  “Just some sweet tea, please.”

  “Make that two,” Brian said, giving the waitress a polite smile, then looking back at Melissa.

  Their waitress nodded, then left but before she opened the door, she shot another glance over her shoulder. Brian, however, seemed oblivious to her interest.

  Melissa felt a tiny thrill of pleasure at the idea that she was with this man who, it seemed, so many women found appealing.

  Melissa took her menu and opened it, but Brian left his closed on the table.

  “Aren’t you having anything?” she asked.

  “I always get the gnocchi,” Brian said, folding his arms on the small table and leaning closer, his fingers touching her arm. “I recommend it.”

  Melissa glanced over the items, trying to concentrate while Brian’s finger traced tiny circles on her forearm. “Don’t you want to try something different? There’s such a variety to choose from.”

  “When I find something I like I stick with it.”

  “That’s a good thing,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting his.

  His grin created those appealing crinkles at the corners of his blue eyes, deepening and enhancing them. “I’m a basic person. What you see is what you get.” His expression grew serious as if he was about to say something else.