Page 10 of Biker Under My Tree

Cheryl followed me as I stepped out of the freezer with her clipboard tucked under her arm. “Well, good. Then I won’t worry. See you next week, then?”

“Next week,” I echoed and hoped I hadn’t just agreed to anything that’d get me in trouble with Snow.

“Sunday, though,” she clarified, tapping her clipboard. “Snow said she would deliver everything on Sunday.”

I felt my eyebrow twitch at that. Today was Thursday. That meant Snow had three days to pull together twenty-five dozen cookies on top of the usual orders. “Sunday it is.”

It probably wasn’t my place to promise that, but Snow knew her schedule better than I did, right?

I made my way back out to the front of the bakery and stopped at the counter to grab a coffee. The line moved slowly as people browsed the display cases and chatted with the staff. The whole place was filled with that holiday hum of busyness and cheer.

Finally, I got to the front. The cashier greeted me with a friendly, “What can I get for you?”

Before I could answer, Cheryl’s voice piped up from down the counter where she’d switched over to making coffee. “Whatever he wants, just give it to him.”

I raised my hand in thanks and called back, “You know what Snow usually gets?”

“Pecan pie latte, double shot, double whip,” Cheryl answered with an easy grin. “Might want to make it a triple shot since she’s shorthanded.”

I turned to the cashier. “I’ll take one of those and a black coffee for myself.”

The cashier smiled, and as she turned to grab the cups, she asked, “Anything from the bakery case?”

Again, Cheryl’s voice called out from her end of the counter, “He’s with Snow! He can get his sweets straight from the source!”

“Just the coffee,” I chuckled.

I stepped to the side, watching the people in line after me. Every single one of them had some kind of order from the bakerycase. I couldn’t help but smile a little—Snow’s sweets really were the talk of the town.

After a few minutes, Cheryl came over with my drinks. “Here you go,” she said, carefully handing them to me. “Say hi to Snow for me, yeah?” She winked.

“Will do,” I replied and gave her a nod as I took the coffees and headed for the door.

“I’ll see you Sunday?”

I smiled with a nod.

Snow hadn’t asked me to help her any more than what I had done today, but something told me she was going to need a hell of a lot more help.

Twenty-five dozen cookies.

Holy shit.

Snow

I heard the familiar hum of the van pulling up, and I couldn’t help but glance out the kitchen window. There he was, climbing out of the driver’s seat with that rugged ease that made me pause every time I saw him. Bones, all tall, lean muscle in his leather jacket and worn blue jeans, sauntered toward the door and held two cups in his hands. His sunglasses shielded his eyes, but I could imagine his intense gaze just the same. The man looked like he’d stepped out of an old-fashioned movie reel, and here he was in my driveway.

I barely remembered to breathe as I practically tripped over myself to get to the back door. I swung it open just as he reached it.

“You’re back,” I called, immediately feeling a bit ridiculous for stating the obvious.

Bones chuckled a low, warm sound and stepped inside. He held out one of the cups to me. “Cheryl said this was your usual, though I forgot what she called it.”

I took the cup, peeked under the lid, and inhaled the sweet, nutty aroma. “Mm, pecan pie latte with whipped cream. She knows me too well.”

“Triple shot. She said you might need the extra caffeine,” he noted and glanced around the kitchen as he closed the door behind him.

Oh, so he planned to stay a while? Good thing I’d managed to tidy up a bit after I pulled the last batch of muffins from the oven. But with the mountain of sugar cookie dough I still had to make, it wouldn’t be neat for long.

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