Page 33 of The Sweetest Ingredient

“I’ve handled hot ovens and fiery kitchens, but you, Kenzi? You light up the room in a way no flame can,” he said, his voice raspy and deep.

His cheesy flirtation made me wonder if,beneath that stoic exterior, Bishop held a soft spot for me.

“Every baker needs a spark. Lucky for you, I come with extra sizzle.”

He shook his head, a hint of amusement in his stare. A current of understanding and affection flowed between us, and the future of Doughy Desires had never looked sweeter.

Chapter Thirteen

In the bakery kitchen, I rolled the dough with enough force to flatten a small asteroid, trying to ignore the persistent ache in my chest. I kept pondering what Maxwell had told me about Bishop stealing his inheritance and still feeling conflicted about his job offer.

I shook my head. No time for these musings. There were doughnuts to make and bills to pay.

As Lucia and I were preparing batters and dough for the morning’s baked goods, I tried some friendly conversation.

“Those cookies you made yesterday sold out. How do you get them so perfectly chewy?”

Lucia glanced at me over her shoulder. “Years of experience, honey. Talent that can’t be faked.”

Her words stabbed into my chest. Lucia didn’t know my secret…did she? Or only suspect? I mean, if she did, then she would’ve outed me to Bishop. My charade was too important to let falter now. I needed to stay calm and pretend as if nothing was amiss.

I nodded politely. “I’m learning a lot working alongside you and Bishop.”

Lucia nodded, stirring her batter with confidence. “Kenzi, unlike you, I’ve been with Doughy Desires for over twenty years. My experience and skills? Legendary. I know your marketing has increased our revenue, but I’m basically the backbone of this bakery.”

I leaned my hip against the counter. “And here I was, thinking it was the flour that held everything together.”

She shook her head. But I swear I glimpsed a small smile at my snark.

The kitchen door swung open, revealing Bishop himself. My pulse did a tap dance worthy of a Broadway musical at the sight of my handsome boss. He sauntered into the room as though he owned the place—which, of course, he did—his masculine scent of cedarwood and amber announcing his presence.

“Good morning, Kenzi.” His voice was rich and warm, like melted chocolate poured over a brownie.

“Hello, Bishop.”

“Morning, boss,” Lucia said from her workstation.

“Lucia.” Bishop acknowledged her curtly before turning to me. “Kenzi? How’s that dough coming along?”

“Great.” I hoped he didn’t notice the slight tremble in my hands as I continued kneading.

He turned his attention to Lucia. “Have you gone over today’s menu with Kenzi?”

“Of course, Bishop.” Lucia shot me a sideways glance. “But I doubt she’ll ever be able to make our signature pastries as well as I can.”

I gritted my teeth at her snide comment. If only they knew about the secret weapon I had up my sleeve—my grandma’s pet recipes.

“Lucia, why don’t you concentrate on your own work,” Bishop said, his tone indicating it wasn’t a suggestion. He exited the kitchen, heading to his adjoining office to do paperwork.

When I finished, I decided to tackle one of my own recipes, and retrieved my grandma’s cherished cookbook from my bag.

“What is that?” Lucia eyed the well-worn pages of the book.

“Something that’ll change Doughy Desires forever,” I replied cryptically.

Lucia huffed. “What do you have in mind?”

“Pet treats.” I opened the recipe book. “Think gourmet goodies that’ll totally shake up the bakery scene and put us in a whole new spotlight.”

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