Page 1 of Tempting the Mountain Man

CHAPTER 1

POLLY

The early morning light filters through the bakery windows as I knead dough for the day’s first batch of bread. The rhythmic motion is soothing, but my peace is interrupted by Sophie’s worried voice.

“Polly, we really need to do something about the stand mixer,” she says, gesturing to the mixer that we use for most of our batters. “It’s making that weird grinding noise again.”

I put down the bag of cake icing and look over at the mixer. It’s probably older than I am. When I bought Sweet Nothings, I knew I’d have to repair or replace it, probably sooner than later. I just hoped it would be later—much later.

I sigh, mentally calculating the cost. A new commercial stand mixer could easily set us back at least one thousand dollars. Money that, if I’m honest, I don’t have to spare right now. But…without a mixer, we’re severely limited in what we can produce in the bakery. I’d have to hire an additional baker if we had to mix everything by hand and…also something I don’t have budget for right now.

“You’re right,” I admit, trying to keep the worry out of my voice. “I’ll make some calls this afternoon. We can’t risk it breaking down completely.”

Sophie nods, relief evident on her face. Her blonde ponytail bobs as she wipes down the counter. “Thanks. I was worried you might try to push it for another week.”

“Don’t tempt me,” I joke, though part of me wishes I could. “Maybe we could duct tape it together?”

Sophie rolls her eyes, smiling broadly. “Sure, and while we’re at it, why don’t we replace all our measuring cups with coconut shells?”

I laugh, grateful for her ability to lighten the mood. “Hey, that could be our new gimmick. ‘Sweet Nothings: Where Stone Age Meets Gourmet.’”

The phone’s shrill ring cuts through our laughter.

I wipe my hands on my apron and reach for the receiver. “Sweet Nothings. How can I help you?”

“Morning, Polly!” Chuck’s familiar voice booms through the line. “How’s that birthday cake coming along?”

I smile at his enthusiasm. Chuck’s been a regular since before I took over the bakery, and his excitement over our creations never fails to boost my spirits. “Good morning, Chuck. It’s almost done. Your sister’s going to love it.”

“Great! Listen, I hate to ask, but I’m tied up with my cabin project. You know how these things go. Any chance my buddy Gabe could swing by to pick it up? He’s in town helping me out. I can pay you the next time I’m in.”

“No problem at all, Chuck,” I assure him, glancing at the half-decorated cake on my workbench. “When should I expect him?”

“Around noon. Thanks, Polly. You’re a lifesaver!”

After hanging up, I leave Sophie at the front counter, put my earbuds in, and crank my favorite playlist. I focus on finishing the cake, determined to make it perfect.

Just before noon, the bell above the door chimes. Sophie, who’s restocking the display case, looks up. “Welcome to Sweet Nothings! What can I get for you today?”

I glance over, curious about our new customer, and nearly drop the piping bag I’m holding. The man who just walked in is nothing short of breathtaking. Tall and broad-shouldered with the kind of deep tan that comes from working outdoors, and eyes the color of toasted hazelnuts. He’s dressed simply in jeans and a fitted t-shirt that does nothing to hide his muscular build. My heart thumps in my chest, and I silently remind myself that I’ve sworn off men for the time being—even men who look yummy.

“Hi,” he says, his voice deep and rich like molasses. “I’m here to pick up a cake for Chuck?”

I step forward, my heart racing. “Oh, you must be Gabe,” I say, wincing internally at how breathy my voice sounds. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m Polly. The cake is right here.”

As I move to the counter, I bite my lip when I see how tightly his t-shirt stretches across his broad chest. My cheeks flush hot as an image flashes through my mind—licking powdered sugar off those muscles. I shake my head, trying to banish the thought. What’s wrong with me? You’d think I’d never seen a man before.

“Nice to meet you, Polly,” Gabe says, his eyes meeting mine. He tilts his head as he looks at me, and I catch him glancing over my body, his eyes lingering for a moment on my hips. “Chuck’s told me a lot about this place. Said I had to try your famous apple turnovers while I’m in town.”

I laugh, grateful for the chance to talk about what I do best. “Well, Chuck’s one of my biggest fans. But,” I smile and gesture toward the display case, “my apple turnovers are a town favorite.”

Gabe watches me, and I wish I knew what was going through his mind. I can’t tell if he thinks I’m zany or if he’s genuinely interested in what I’m saying. “I’ll have to try them for myself. Could you put four in a bag for me?”

“Of course,” I say, moving behind the counter. “Anything else?”

Gabe walks over and looks intently at the pastries on display. I know I shouldn’t be staring at him like this, but I can’t help it. Watching his muscles flex as he moves is mesmerizing.

“So, Gabe,” I say, aiming for casual, “Chuck mentioned you’re helping him with his cabin? Are you in construction?”

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