Page 3 of The Mechanic's Secret Santa

Chapter Two

AARON

“Don’t touch my cocks!” It’s the last thing I hear before my future wife darts from the bakery via the back door, as though she’s outrunning an avalanche.

I don’t even bother hiding my grin as I catch Becky Sue’s gaze through the open doorway pointed right at me. She offers up an amused shrug before returning her attention to the ovens. A subtle reassurance that she’s still rooting for me to win over the bakery owner’s heart, even if today is not that day.

“What would you like to try this time?” The teenage girl behind the register asks as I step up to the counter.

Until now, I haven’t even glanced at the display case. It’s been the same since the first day I stepped foot in the bakery almost four months ago. It’s a subconscious decision, for my gaze to seek out Meg Bernard the moment I cross the threshold. “I’ll try a Rudolph cupcake,” I decide.

“Good choice.”

There really is no wrong answer here. I’ve yet to try a cupcake, cookie, or pastry from Meg’s bakery that’s disappointed me. The woman is fucking talented.

I wait until I’m halfway down the block before taking a bite. The mixture of chocolate and strawberry is nearly orgasmic. My moan might be imagined, but my eyes fall shut as I let the rich flavor dance across my taste buds. Fuck, this cupcake just might be better than sex.Though I bet if I tasted Meg’s cookie, I’d have to refute that?—

Distracted by the rush of incredible flavor mingling with thoughts of my tongue exploring Meg’s tastiest dessert, my boot catches a patch of ice.

In my hectic attempt to stay upright that involves flailing arms, a whoosh of chilly wind, and all out chaos, I catch a whiff of cinnamon right before I hear a startled scream and feel a hard tug on my coat.

When my boots finally find traction, I discover two bare hands clutching my open coat. A red and gold gift bag dangles off one wrist. Meg’s dark chocolate hair is struggling to stay in its messy bun, curls caressing her neck in a way that I envy. A stray lock nearly tickles my beard. If I leaned down just a bit, I could press my lips to her forehead.

“Are you okay?” I notice I’m gripping her forearms as if the connection is the only thing keeping either of us from drowning. Reluctantly, I loosen my hold now that she’s safe. My fingers itch to grab her hips. To bring that delicate cookie of hers closer to a part of me that suddenly isn’t so cold at all.Down, fucker. Not the time.

“You nearly ran me over,” she pants, staring straight at my chest.

“It’s your fault, really.”

“Excuse me?”

I bend to retrieve a cupcake wrapper and offer it up as evidence. “Your cupcakes are so damn good they’re hazardous. I forgot where I was.”

Her tense expression softens, a gentle smile replacing her straight-lipped scowl. “Sorry not sorry?”

“What’s in the bag?” I nod at her wrist.

“Nothing,” she says, hiding it behind her back.

“Is that for me?” I tease, pretending as though I’m trying to steal it from her.

“Aren’t you two cute?” Mrs. Wilkerson, a sweet elderly lady who brings her car to the shop at least once a week so I can check out a noise, coos as she passes by us on the street, causing Meg’s cheeks to darken from pink to red.

“Maybeyoucan convince her to go out with me?” I say to Mrs. Wilkerson, effectively stopping her in her tracks. The woman is a sucker for a good romance. Apparently, Alpine Valley has its share of happily ever after stories, and Mrs. Wilkerson knows them all. I’d never admit how much I enjoy hearing them. Even if she gets a bit carried away on some of the…steamier details.

“Aaron Montgomery asked you out, and you turned him down?” she scoffs at Meg.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Meg asks.

“Because I haveeyes.”

“I don’t have time for dating,” Meg insists. “It’s the bakery’s busiest time of year.”

“I think your mother would be a little disappointed to hear that,” Mrs. Wilkerson says, sounding disappointed herself.

“Don’t remind me,” Meg mumbles.

“What’s that dear?”

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