Page 25 of Mitch

“I can’t wait to see what you two come up with,” my father chimed in.

The hours on the clock were like an eternity. Especially those last fifteen minutes. A part of me wondered if perhaps he wouldn’t show. Maybe he too was nursing a hangover, and would want to reschedule.

Did I want him to reschedule?

A part of me wanted to avoid looking the man I’d kissed in the eyes, while the other part of me—a larger part—was curious to see him again. Maybe I could apologize, clear the air.

Away from my parents and Archie, of course, which wouldn’t be too difficult if I could somehow come up with a guise to get Mitchell alone that wasn’t suspicious.

I’d almost sweated myself out of my clothes by the point he actually showed up.

Dressed in tight burgundy jeans and a zebra print button down, his dark hair was gelled back, the lights of the bakery casting a shimmering sheen on his dark locks. Slung across his back was a tripod, and he carried what looked liketwo giant suitcases. He looked like he was going on a trip to Key West and not a small town bakery to photograph desserts.

Without thinking, I headed toward the door, if only to help him drag in his equipment.

“Hey...” I said as I swooped in to grab the suitcase he gripped in his right hand. “Let me help you with that,” I said.

Mitchell smirked, his dark eyes full of mischief and excitement.

“It’s good to see you too, Cream Puff,” he said, his voice dark and...sexy.

I swallowed harshly as I tried to focus on the task at hand, and not the weird things his deep rumble was doing to me.

For God’s sake, my parents are here!

“You must be Mitchell,” my father said as he came up beside me, extending his hand. “I’m Samuel Baker, co-owner of Penn’s Bakery.”

Mitchell’s smirk shifted into a much morepolitesmile, his entire demeanor shifting like a chameleon.

“So nice to meet you, Mr. Baker,” Mitchell said as he extended his hand.

Panic laced its way through me.

“And this is my wife, and co-owner,Marissa.” He introduced my mom who shook his hand, smiling ear to ear.

“Nice to meet you both,” Mitchell said, his voice as saccharine as the buttercream frosting Archie was whipping up for this afternoon’s orders.

I forced my legs to move, if only because I needed to get as far away from the Twilight Zone as possible, or I thought I might legit pass out.

Thankfully, my parents had sequestered Mitchell for the moment so I could breathe behind the counter. I dropped his suitcase in front of the display case, figuring it was a good spot. I’d been working on the display practically all day to settle my nerves about this very moment.

Archie smirked at me.

“What’s so funny?” I bit out as the oven timer went off for the three tier cake we were working on for Gloria Tanen’s fiftieth.

The smell of fresh baked vanilla rounds swept through the air, soothing my senses just a fraction.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Archie snickered as he slid me the buttercream.

I shot him a glare as I kept my backto my parents and Mitchell, deciding instead to get lost in frosting the cake rounds.

The rest of the day—which was only about four hours or so—I spent avoiding Mitchell.

Which wasn’t an easy feat, given the size of our shop. But somehow, I managed to busy myself with Miss Tanen’s cake, and spent the last hour doing dishes.

My parents had taken off, and it was just Archie and I. At least, Ithoughtit was just Archie and I, until I came around the corner and ran smack into Mitchell, camera still in hand, taking pictures of the marble and cobalt tile, of the back of the counter. He pitched forward a moment, the snap of the shutter going off as he cursed, finding his grounding.

I looked back and forth, expecting to see Archie, but he wasn’t in the front.

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