Page 10 of The Sweetest Ingredient

I whispered a silent plea, Please look like frosting. Please look like frosting…

A pair of hands appeared beside mine, adjusting the speed on the mixer. I lifted my head to find Bishop beside me. “Try going a bit slower. It’ll make it fluffier.”

When his fingers brushed my shoulder, a jolt of electricity zipped through me. I became hyperaware of his closeness, the heat of him, and the faint trace of his cedarwood and citrus cologne.

“Don’t be nervous. I know this is your first day in my kitchen,” he whispered, his lips close to my ear, making the hairs on my neck stand up. “But you’re going to do fine.”

I stilled, my breath catching. Get it together, Kenzi.

“Um, thanks.”

He moved to my side. “Are you going to add any flavor or color?”

“Why, Mr. Bishop, are you challenging my artistic sensibilities?”

He picked up a bottle of yellow food coloring and handed it to me. “Just thought this might give it a bit more pizazz.”

I grinned, grateful for his help. He returned to the alcove, and I found it easier to breathe.

My next task was to fill eclairs with cream. Sounded simple enough. I gave the bag a gentle squeeze. Nothing came out. I tried again, a little harder this time, but still zero cream filling. Huh. Maybe it was blocked. I lifted the nozzle, then gave the bag a forceful squeeze.

A jet of cream shot straight up, hitting the ceiling. I yelped, dropping the bag, which sent another spurt soaring across the room and landing on Lucia.

I grimaced. “Oh, my bad!”

Lucia gave me a withering stare. “First day on the job and you’re already redecorating,” she remarked coolly.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Try to remember, this is a bakery, not a paintball arena. Eclairs are filled with cream, not the ceiling or your coworkers.” She sucked in an exaggerated breath, as if trying to control her temper. “You might be more suited to working the front counter. Far, far away from me.”

“Again, so very sorry.”

I cleaned up the mess and resumed filling the eclairs.

Throughout my shift, I occasionally passed by Bishop, watching him measure, mix, and decorate each baked item. Underneath that gruff exterior was someone who cared deeply about his work. There had to be a softer side to him that was just waiting to be discovered. Perhaps all it would take was the right artsy girl to bring it out.

Stop it! Focus on your job, not the broody eye candy.

I should not be fantasizing about him in any way other than boss and employee. He could have a pet ferret obsession or a creepy taxidermy collection of ferrets. Yes, ferrets were adorable, but having them stare at you from every corner of a room? That’s a hard pass.

“Time for a break,” Bishop announced, startling me out of my thoughts.

“Finally!” Jordan stretched his arms above his head. “I’m going up to the rooftop for some fresh air. The view of the town is spectacular.”

“Oh? I’ll have to check it out some time,” I said.

“You should. I take most of my breaks up there, weather permitting.” Jordan walked past me and ascended a narrow staircase in the rear of the room that I hadn’t noticed before.

The mother hen of the kitchen, Lucia, sampled one of Bishop’s cupcakes. “These are divine, Bishop. I like the new formula.”

He handed me one. “Let me know what you think.”

I took a big bite. Closing my eyes and savoring the sweet flavor, I moaned.

Realizing what I had done, my eyelids snapped open and my face warmed hotter than the oven we’d been using all day.

I cleared my throat and tried to regain my composure. “It’s delicious.”

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