Page 2 of Tempting the Mountain Man

He looks up and shakes his head. “Not exactly. I just mustered out of the Army. Chuck and I go way back—we served together on my first tour. He asked for some help with his cabin, and I didn’t have anything else planned, so,” he pauses, “I figured why not?”

“Oh,” I say, genuinely impressed. “Thank you for your service.” I wince internally at my clumsy words, but Gabe nods. He must hear that from everyone he meets.

“It had its moments,” he says quietly. Then, as if shaking off a memory, he smiles slightly. “But now I’m looking forward to a quieter life. I’m still working out what that means, but for now, it’s helping Chuck build his cabin.”

I laugh. “Well, if you need a break from all that manual labor, you know where to find the best baked goods in town.”

“I can see that,” Gabe says, his eyes roaming the display case again. “Everything looks amazing.”

As I box up his order, Gabe leans against the counter, his presence comforting and slightly unnerving. “So, Polly,” he says, “how long have you owned the bakery? Chuck said you bought the place recently.”

I feel a flush of pride as I answer. “I took over about six months ago. I worked here for five years before that, though. When Mr. Jenkins—the previous owner—decided to retire, he offered to sell it to me.” I pause, remembering the excitement and terror I felt at the prospect. “It was a big step, but it’s always been my dream to run my own bakery.”

Gabe’s eyes light up with genuine interest. “That’s incredible. It must have taken a lot of courage to make that leap.”

His words warm me from the inside out. It’s refreshing to hear someone—especially a man—express admiration for my ambition instead of trying to make me believe my dreams are too big and impossible. “It was scary,” I admit. “But I knew if I didn’t try, I’d always regret it.”

“I get that.” Gabe nods. “Sometimes the scariest choices are the ones most worth making.”

A moment of understanding passes between us, and I find myself wanting to know more about him.

But before I can ask, Gabe glances at his watch. “I should probably get that cake back to Chuck. His sister is a stickler for punctuality, and he’s heading out as soon as I deliver this.” He seems reluctant to turn away, but I know I must be imagining that. “What do I owe you for the turnovers?”

I ring up his order, our fingers brushing as he hands me the money. An electric spark zips across my skin, and from the way Gabe’s eyes widen slightly, I hope it means that he feels it too.

“Here you go,” I say, handing him the cake box and the bag with his turnovers.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, everything else fades away. His eyes hold a question and a hint of something that makes my heart race.

“Thanks, Polly,” Gabe says softly. “I have a feeling I’ll be stopping by again soon.”

“I hope so,” I reply before I can stop myself. Heat creeps up my cheeks, but Gabe’s answering smile is worth the momentary embarrassment.

As he turns to leave, balancing the cake box carefully, I call out, “Let me know what you think of those turnovers!”

Gabe pauses at the door, looking back with a grin that makes my knees weak. “I will. Though they won’t be the only reason I come back.”

The bell chimes as he exits, leaving me alone in the suddenly quiet bakery. I lean against the counter, my heart still racing.

Sophie sidles up next to me, an amused grin on her face. “So...Chuck’s friend, huh?”

I straighten up, trying to look nonchalant. “Yes, just picking up the cake.”

“Uh-huh,” Sophie says, her grin widening. “And I’m sure the way you looked at him had nothing to do with those muscles barely contained by his t-shirt.”

“Sophie!” I exclaim, my face heating again.

She laughs, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, Polly. I thought you were going to start drooling when he smiled at you. I’ve never seen you that flustered—and we’ve had some hotties come through here for sure!”

I shake my head, trying to brush off her teasing. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s just a customer.”

“A customer you couldn’t take your eyes off,” Sophie counters. “And don’t think I didn’t notice how he looked at you, too. There were some serious sparks flying over that counter.”

“You’re imagining things,” I insist, though my entire body feels hot. “Besides, even if there was something there—which there isn’t—I don’t have time for dating. I’ve got a business to run, remember?”

Sophie’s expression softens. “I know, Polly. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little flirtation now and then. You work so hard. It’s okay to let yourself feel something.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right but not quite ready to admit it. “Let’s get back to work, okay? Be gentle and give the mixer another try. Those cookies won’t bake themselves.”

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