Page 7 of The Biker & the Baker

However, if he had to choose between Brian’s and Bart’s love story, which started wrong, but turned out wonderful, and his ill-fated relationship with Rick, that was all milk and honey in the beginning, Albert would have preferred the first oneany given day. The name of his still-boyfriend brought back memories of past abuse, but he pushed them back.

The lunch break ended, and Bart went back to school for the afternoon classes, leaving Brian in the company of his friend. However, the two of them didn’t have much time to chat, because the librarian was taking care of the last details for the reading club’s meeting. It was many kids’ favorite activity of the week, he explained with an apologetic smile.

A couple of hours later, Albert could see that Brian didn’t exaggerate; a big group of children, aged five to eight, were sitting in a semicircle around him, listening fascinated to every word he was reading to them. He changed the modulations of his voice, making it sound dramatic, solemn, scared or cheerful, depending on the events the author described or the characters’ reactions. The librarian was doing more than reading from that book, he was acting it.

Albert blinked away the tears appearing in his eyes as he remembered how Brian’s mother, Marisa, used to read to them and little Eddie, a toddler at the time, in the same way, from a bedtime stories book that became his all-time favorite. He cherished it and the memories it evoked so much, that, after adopting Chad and Monica, he bought a copy and read to them from it for many years.

Tiredness started to wrap its tendrils around Albert, making him close his suddenly too heavy eyes and yawn a few times. He fought the sleepiness because, knowing Brian as he did, his friend would have brought the reading session to anearly end to drive him to his house. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around, thinking what to do to stay awake and alert.

After a few seconds, Albert decided to take a walk through the rows of bookshelves and examine some of the titles, maybe even grab something to read. The steps carried him to the children’s literature area, where, with fresh, innocent eyes, he rediscovered a universe he thought was lost forever.

All the nursery rhymes collections and fairy tales that delighted him as a child and gave wings to his imagination, all the stories with kids, girls and boys alike, who helped their moms, grandmas, or aunties in the kitchen, were there. And somewhere on a lower shelf, so even the youngest or shortest readers could reach it, he sawthatbook.

With shaky hands, Albert took it from the shelf, ran his flat palm over the shiny cover, then opened it with the same care and attention an archaeologist would have given to an ancient artifact. The same brightly-colored pictures, the same type of paper, even the fonts were the same with those from the book of his childhood. A sensation of warm familiarity invaded the man’s heart, and he knew The Base was going to be his new home.

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Letting out a soft sigh of contentment, Albert relaxed into the chair. “Excuse my table manners, but I’m full.” He pointed with the fork to his now-empty plate. “This was delicious, thank you so much, Missus Knight, for cooking my favorite dish ever.”

“I second to my friend’s praises,” Brian gave his mother a warm, affectionate smile. “Your steak with baked potatoes and mushroom sauce is to die for.”

Marisa wrapped the young men around the table in a warm, maternal look. “No need to apologize, Albert, we always considered you a part of our family.” She shook her head, the smile becoming brighter. “Imagine my shock when Brian texted me you showed up at the library after all this time. When he asked me to cook your guys’ favorite dish from back when you were kids, I hoped you’d still like it. Well, I guess some things never change.”

Albert nodded. “Some don’t, indeed, but others…” He grinned. “For some very strange reason, even after all these years, I always thought about Eddie as the five-year-old he was when we had to leave. He was a Peter Pan of sorts, who refused to grow past that stage.”

“Bro, he’s twenty-eight years old, married, and father of two very cute children who are older than the age he was when you last saw him.” Bart’s exclamation was followed by a lighthearted burst of laughing.

“Which makes me feel really, really old.” It was Albert’s turn to laugh as he wrapped Edward and Julien in an affectionate gaze. “Little Eddie married and father of two…well, I guess I’ll have to drop thelittlepart from now on.”

“Do you still like to bake?” Marisa turned to Albert, desperately wanting to change the subject, afraid that the conversation could take an unwanted turn, reopening old wounds.“I still remember how much fun the two of us had trying new recipes, combinations, and flavors.”

A smile brightened Albert’s face, making his eyes shine. “Yes, I still do. In fact, backing is more than a hobby for me now; I turned it into my source of income by attending the classes of some prestigious baking schools and becoming a professional with my own business.”

“That’s really great, congratulations!” Marisa lightly patted her sons’ friend’s hand, smiling affectionately. “I’m really happy for you and I bet your mom is, too, in spite of her disapproving your passion for baking back when you were a kid.”

“Mister Albert, do you know how to make peach pie?” Antoinette gave the man a hopeful look, then the questions started to cascade.“What about croissants? What kind of cake is your favorite? What about chocolates, do you know how to make those?”

Albert smiled as the feeling from the library took over him again.

CHAPTER 6

With a sigh of contentment, Albert climbed onto the bed, letting his body sink into the mattress. It was the perfect end of a very good day, he said to himself, pulling the thin blanket over him and folding his hands under his head. The first day of a new life, he continued the internal monologue, closing his eyes.From this point on, things can only get better.

Albert sighed again, this time in relief. All the way to Brian’s house, he braced himself for the torrent of questions he was sure his friend was going to ask him, but fortunately it wasn’t the case. Sure, with the man’s parents, brother, and brother-in-law coming to meet him after all this time, doing that during or after dinner wasn’t possible.

Of course, Brian could take Albert to some private place after dinner, like the porch or the library, but he didn’t, gaining his best friend’s eternal gratitude. It was not like he had something to hide, but he simply wasn’t ready for that conversation, and apparently the librarian sensed that and gave him space and time, just like he did back in the old days.

Albert tried to empty his mind and get ready for the sleep to overtake him, but instead, the image of the guard from the gates, the one who let him in, appeared in front of his eyes, closed as they were, and refused to leave. Come on, it’s almost midnight, not the right time for…this, he thought, without a clear idea about whatthiswas.

Earlier at the library, just after What-Was-His-Name left, Albert wanted to ask Brian more about him, but fortunately Bianca came, just in time to keep him from making a fool out of himself and give his friend reasons to suspect he was interested in the muscular biker with a deep voice and soft, warm eyes.

Back when Old Jim was alive, he taught Albert about the significance of some tattoos, and that little bit of knowledge helped him to find out some things about the guard at the gates by reading the ink on his arms, or so he thought. From what he could see, the man was in a top position in the hierarchy of his gang, and spent some time in the army.

Although the top part disappeared under the t-shirt, other tattoos spoke of loyalty, friendship, and, surprisingly, love for children, which made Albert suspect the man was a father or paternal figure of one or more children. That brought the man extra points, and, under normal circumstances, was a good reason for the widowed baker to enter into a relationship with him.

Those strong, tattooed arms… Albert sighed dreamily, wondering how it would feel like to have them wrapped around him, hugging him tight against that broad, muscular chest. Get a grip, dude, he mentally admonished himself. The next second, making efforts to chase the image out of his head. You’re a thirty-eight-year-old man, not some high school girl who has a crush on a famous actor or rock star.

Plus, you didn’t leave one biker to hook up with another the very next day, Albert continued to scold himself. Come on,put your ass to sleep, tomorrow you have lots of things to sort out, places to go and people to meet. Apparently, that thought had a calming effect on his tensed nerves, as he completely relaxed and let a deep, restful sleep overtake him.

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