The Bachelor Baker Read online

  Then a playful breeze tossed a few errant leaves around the courtyard and lifted a strand of hair loose from Melissa’s ponytail.

  She reached up to deal with it, but Brian was already tucking it behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her face. “I think you should know that I want to kiss you again,” he whispered.

  Melissa’s heart pounded against her ribs, stealing her breath. She swallowed. “You can,” she whispered. She was about to lean closer when the sound of a phone ringing came from her purse.

  He blew out his breath in a sigh of exasperation as Melissa reached for it.

  “Amanda’s phoning now instead of texting?”

  Melissa nodded.

  “Let it go for once,” Brian said with a light frown. “She can take care of things.”

  Melissa shot him an agonized glance. “But I told her to call me if something went wrong.”

  “I know you and Amanda have been texting all morning. What could she possibly have to tell you now?”

  Melissa bit her lip, glancing from the phone to Brian, sensing his displeasure, yet knowing she couldn’t leave it be.

  The phone stopped ringing and she relaxed. But when it started up again, she couldn’t stop herself. She dove for her purse and snatched her phone, hitting the button to connect the call. “Hello, what’s happening?” she demanded.

  “Something’s wrong with the bread mixer,” Amanda wailed into the phone. “When I turned it on this morning to swish the wash water in it, it was making funny sounds. Then it quit. I didn’t want to bug you so I thought maybe it would go away, but I thought I would try it again and I think it’s broken.”

  Melissa bit her lip, thinking. She needed that mixer going first thing Monday morning. There wouldn’t be anyone available tomorrow to fix it because it was Sunday. “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  She disconnected and grabbed her purse. “We need to get back to the bakery,” she said to a puzzled Brian, pushing her chair back with a screech on the bricks. “I need to get the bread mixer fixed.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” he asked, still sitting.

  “I don’t know. Amanda said it wasn’t working.”

  “Tell her to get Alan or Patrick at the hardware store to have a look at it. It’s just a loose belt. I fixed it the other day. It probably came loose again.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Melissa glanced from her phone to Brian, thinking what to do. “I don’t think I can hand that over to someone else. I need to be there.”

  “I can fix it when we get back.”

  “What if it’s something more than that? I don’t dare risk it.”

  “So we’re leaving then.”

  “I’d like to.”

  Brian pushed his own chair back. “Okay. I guess the bakery comes first,” he said with a sigh of resignation.

  “It’s my business,” she said. “It’s important to me.”

  “Of course it is.” He held her gaze, his mouth curved in a rueful smile. “I’ll go cancel our drink order.”

  She followed him out of the restaurant. As Brian drove away from the restaurant, she sensed his disappointment.

  What else could she have done? It was her bakery and it was her job to make sure everything ran well. She didn’t have any choice in that matter. Surely Brian should understand that, shouldn’t he?

  Chapter Eleven

  “It’s all under control, Mrs. Morgan,” Melissa said, trying to keep the annoyed tone out of her voice. “Yes, I received the picture you emailed me and I’ll definitely incorporate those designs into the cake. No, you don’t need to come to the bakery.” Melissa suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, aware of Brian’s sardonic look as he cut up the apples. “Yes. I’ll call you when the cake is done.”

  Melissa put down the phone, shoved her hands through her hair and dropped her elbows on the butcher block counter. “And doesn’t that top my Monday morning off?” She sighed.

  Brian looked over from the apples he was cutting and frowned. “I’m guessing not all is well between you and Wilson Wedding World?”

  Melissa blew out her breath and shook her head. “Mrs. Morgan is growing more demanding every day and that’s saying a lot because she was demanding from the beginning.”

  “Be glad she didn’t corner you at church,” Brian said.

  Melissa shot him a quick smile. She was glad. Yesterday she and Brian had attended church together, then returned to his place for lunch. But afterward Melissa was tired so Brian brought her back home.

  Now it was late Monday afternoon and Melissa had returned from her apartment when Mrs. Morgan called to make sure Melissa had received an extensive email complete with pictures detailing some changes she wanted made to the wedding cake.

  “Soon it will all be over,” Brian assured her, finishing up his job and turning to wash his hands. “Hopefully tomorrow Amanda will be back. It’s been busy today.”

  Melissa walked over to the bowl of apples he had cut up and frowned. “Didn’t you peel the apples?”

  “These are for my mom’s muffin recipe.” Brian dried his hands and hung the towel neatly back up on the rack.

  “But I always peel apples for every recipe.”

  “My mother didn’t for this one.”

  “I would prefer if you did for muffins we’re selling in the bakery,” she replied.

  “The peel gives the muffins more fiber and adds a nice little crunch,” he said picking up the bowl and dumping them in the batter and grinning at her like he was challenging her.

  “Um...didn’t you hear me?” She released a light laugh, her frustration with Mrs. Morgan spilling over to him but at the same time unable to stay angry with him.

  He pretended to cup a hand over his ear and she chuckled.

  “I know you heard me. So why did you put those apples in, anyway?”

  “You only said you preferred it if I peeled them. I assumed you were giving me your personal preference.”

  “Well, not really. It was kind of an order.”

  “Which I would have ignored,” he said, turning on the mixer. “Sometimes, City Slicker, you’re not always right.” He touched the tip of her nose, grinning as if this was some kind of joke, then he brushed a strand of hair away from her face and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

  In spite of the tingle the kiss gave her, she still felt a brush of indignation at how he had ignored her “preferences.”

  “But it’s my bakery,” she said, her words coming out more forcefully than she intended.

  Brian straightened, his smile dropping from his face as quickly as his frown appeared. “Of course it is.”

  His mouth was set in a firm line and regret followed her impulsive words.

  Then just as she was about to apologize, he turned the mixer on. “And it’s my mother’s recipe and we’re making it her way.”

  Melissa dropped her hands on her hips as if to emphasize her point. “And it’s my reputation that’s on the line if people don’t like the muffins.”

  “You won’t quit, will you?” he said, turning to grab the papers to line the muffin pans.

  “Neither will you.”

  He set the papers down and looked at her. Then to her surprise he took a finger full of dough from the mixer and flicked it at her.

  As a small portion of it landed on the front of her apron she could only stare at him, then at the dough now dripping down a pink stripe. “What are you doing?” She ripped off a paper towel and wiped it off.

  He shrugged. “Worked for us last time we had a fight.”

  She stared at him trying to think what he meant. Then the memory returned and with it came a bubble of laughter. She suppressed it, still upset with him, but she couldn’t stop as she rememb
ered how silly they both looked after that cake fight.

  “Is this what this is?” she asked, balling up the paper towel and tossing it in the garbage can.

  Brian laughed, touched her face, his hand drifting down to her shoulder, and gently pulled her close. She melted into his embrace with a sigh of contentment. She closed her eyes, her hands curling on his chest, the insecurities she usually felt fading further and further into the recesses of her mind.

  Possibilities danced within reach.

  Her and Brian.

  “I think we have to stop meeting like this,” Brian chuckled, his voice a rumble beneath her cheek. “I think we might have to make sure Amanda takes a few more days off.”

  “It would make us busier,” she whispered.

  “But give us more privacy,” he returned, stroking her hair.

  She lifted her face and as she did, he kissed her. She felt as if her heart had found a home, as if the dreams she had dreamed all her life were slowly coming true.

  The independence of her own business, a man who cared for her and a place in a community she was slowly feeling a part of.

  “Hello, is anyone here?”

  Melissa drew back, disconcerted at the sound of the tremulous voice. “That’s Gracie Wilson,” she whispered.

  “She doesn’t sound good,” Brian said. “Better go see what she wants.”

  Melissa found Gracie standing in the middle of the store, twisting the ends of her oversize brown plaid shirt around and around her hands. From the look of the dust on it and her faded jeans, she had been working in the back of the hardware store.

  When Gracie saw Melissa, she managed an unsteady smile. “Hey, Melissa.”

  “Hey yourself. How are you doing?”

  Gracie blinked and drew in a long, slow breath. “I’m okay. I think.” Then she shook her head and dropped her head into her hands. She didn’t look okay.

  Melissa walked around the counter, put her arm around Gracie’s shoulder and led her to the back of the bakery. She set her down on a chair and kneeled beside her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Gracie dragged her hands over her face, her body drooping on the chair. “I don’t know. I’m feeling nervous and scared. I’m not sure.”

  Melissa shot Brian a worried look, but he only shrugged, as if uncertain what they should say.

  “What aren’t you sure about?” Melissa asked.

  “This wedding. I need some advice.”

  Melissa sat back, Gracie’s simple words creating a quiver of concern. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” Melissa was at sea here, not sure how to help. Was Gracie simply getting cold feet, or was it something more serious?

  “Nervous, like I said.” Gracie’s teeth worked at her lower lip, her hands twisted together in her lap. “I feel like everything is coming at me at once and I can’t think. Can’t figure out what to do.” She pressed her lips together. “I miss my mom.”

  “Of course you would,” Melissa assured her. “What bride wouldn’t want her mother around on this special occasion?”

  “Yeah. But I miss her for more than that. I wish I could talk to her about how I’m feeling.” Gracie sniffed, then shook her head, straightening as if putting her emotions behind her. “But I didn’t come here to dump on you. I wanted to ask you about the cake. Did Mrs. Morgan say anything about it being a carrot cake with cream cheese icing?”

  Melissa shook her head. “Far as I know Mrs. Morgan wants a red velvet cake with fondant.”

  Gracie’s teeth worried her lips some more. “I told her I wanted carrot cake. It was my mom’s favorite, but Mrs. Morgan ignores what I say. Every time.”

  Melissa and Lily had discussed how high-handed Mrs. Morgan had been with the wedding preparations and both agreed Trent should step up.

  “I think you need to talk to Trent about this,” Melissa encouraged.

  Gracie tweaked out a lukewarm smile. “Trent doesn’t seem to care much about the party stuff, as he calls it. He’s been busy at work, or he says...” Her voice faded off as if she was unsure of her own defense of him. “Then yesterday he told me I didn’t need to work at the hardware store anymore. That I should quit. But I can’t. Business is picking up at the store and I like my job. Besides, Trent is never home, anyway. He’s always gone. I may as well be working.” Gracie shook her head, as if regretting her sudden outburst. “Don’t mind me,” she said. “I’m just out of sorts.”

  “You should talk to Trent. Let him know how you feel.”

  “He doesn’t always answer his phone.” Gracie rubbed the back of her neck, as if easing out the kinks in it, then stood, giving Melissa a quick smile. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”

  “Before you go, why don’t you look at what Mrs. Morgan chose for the cake? Maybe we can figure out something that will work for both of you.”

  She nodded, and as she followed Melissa to her small office, the young girl looked more like she was making plans for a funeral than for a wedding.

  * * *

  Brian watched Melissa and Gracie leave the room. He felt bad for the poor girl but figured she was simply feeling last-minute nerves. He didn’t blame Trent for not getting involved. Weddings were mostly about the bride. When Kirk got married to Abby, he had told Brian all he had to do was shut up, dress up and show up.

  As he dropped mounds of muffin mix into the oversized paper cups, his mind slipped back to his own tiff with Melissa. In spite of how it ended, her attitude bugged him.

  As Melissa said, it was her bakery and Brian knew that was part of his problem. He was a hired hand here and although things had changed between him and Melissa, that basic aspect of their relationship hadn’t. She was his boss.

  Melissa returned, frowning at the papers she held and glancing over her shoulder as the outside door fell shut behind Gracie.

  “I’m concerned about that girl.” Melissa set the papers on the work counter.

  “She’s probably just suffering from wedding jitters, and who wouldn’t with Mrs. Morgan in charge?” Brian said, measuring out the mix into the muffin pans.

  “So you’re still going with what you made?” Melissa asked, taking a little side trip into control territory.

  “If it doesn’t turn out, you can take the ingredients out of my salary,” he returned, trying to keep his tone light. “Just trust me and trust my mother’s recipe.”

  “Sorry. I’ll stop now,” she said, lifting a hand in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll reserve judgment until I try them.”

  “That’s all I ask,” he said.

  Melissa looked down at the papers on the counter. “I guess I’m worried about Gracie.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “I’m concerned that she doesn’t feel she can count on Trent to back her. From the sounds of things, she can’t count on him to take her side with her future mother-in-law. If he can’t do that, I’m wondering if he’s the right person for her.”

  “Trent’s okay,” Brian assured her. “All the women in town agree that he’s a good catch. He makes good money. She’ll be able to give up her job at the hardware store and he’ll be able to provide her with a life of leisure.”

  Which was more than he could do for any future wife of his. At least Trent could provide for his family on his own.

  You will, too.

  “I don’t think Gracie is eager to give up her job,” Melissa said, wrinkling her forehead in a frown. “I think it’s important that she have something she can count on when people around her fail.”

  Brian’s own concerns ratcheted a notch as he guessed Melissa wasn’t only talking about Gracie.

  “When people fail?” he said.

  “It happens, and a girl shouldn’t have to count on other people to provide for her.”

  �
��What’s wrong with having someone provide for you? Or taking care of you?”

  Melissa tapped her fingers on the counter, apparently agitated. “I think a woman needs to take care of herself, and the only way to guarantee that is to make her own money.”

  Her impassioned words struck him at his core. As they settled, he felt as if he was hovering on the precipice of an uncertain place.

  Right now she was right. She had to make her own money because he couldn’t provide for her on what he made now. And he only had the job he did because of Melissa.

  Brian thought of the phone call he had gotten from Kirk last night. A company based out of Concordia, affiliated with the company Kirk worked for, was looking to hire. A job there might be coming up in a couple of weeks.

  Concordia wasn’t as far as Junction City. He could stay in Bygones, but he would be away from home more. Which would mean leaving Grandpa alone again.

  But you could make enough money to hold your head up high. To bring in the same money Melissa is bringing in.

  He wanted to think it didn’t matter, but it did. If he was going to be with someone, it had to be as an equal partner.

  “You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?” Melissa’s voice took on a pleading tone. “You get what I mean?”

  “I get that your independence is important to you,” he replied. “You need to be in charge.” He spoke the words as a statement of fact rather than a question.

  “Yes.”

  Something inside him clenched like a fist at her single word. He picked up the filled muffin containers and carried them to the oven, his mind spinning. He wondered if she would be able to see a marriage as a partnership. Would her work come first?

  What she said wasn’t new to him, but her independence hadn’t mattered before.

  Before she had become more important than any other woman in his life.

  Chapter Twelve

  The bell for the front door sounded just as her office phone rang. Melissa walked away to answer the phone, and Brian set the timer for the muffins, then walked to the front of the bakery to do his job—take care of customers.