Page 4 of Grumpy Baker

"Yes." Mackenna beams. "I'd inhale that with my hazelnut iced macchiato. Or maybe you can do a collab with On the Rocks?"

"What kind of collaboration do you have in mind?" I ask as curiosity sparks my imagination.

"One where you get an ice cream sandwich with some sort of mudslide. Or wait, is there a way to make a pralines and creammudslide, or hazelnut? That would be so good if you don't make the muffin too sweet."

It's brilliant, but it's also too labor-intensive to perfect a mudslide drink recipe tonight. The more I think of the exhaustion looming over me, the less I want to stay in the bakery.

I find myself making excuses, telling her, "I never put much thought into a collaboration between them. The bakery takes up most of my day, and now that Hank quit on me, I think I should keep things simple. It's nearly two in the morning, and I don't feel like doing much prep work. How about you keep all the tips from the bar anyway and let me take you home?"

"You're going to regret not doing your prep work the same way you regret parking your car when it needs gas and promise to go in the morning. Let me help you, Dean. Please."

I relent, and we get to work. Once again, we find a rhythm after I take her through everything we have to do to make the muffins and cookies.

Mackenna's right, too. I would have had to come back and sleep on the couch in the break room to do all of this work before we opened. Thankfully, I can leave instructions for my staff and sleep in late. I'll figure out what to do about the bar later.

The drive to Mackenna's house is quiet, so it doesn’t surprise me that by the time I pull into her driveway, she’s sleeping against the window. I don’t want to wake her, but my car’s sudden stop forces her eyes open.

The soft moan and yawn purring from her throat has my imagination leaping to what it would be like waking up next to her in the morning.

"Thank you, Dean." Mackenna's voice is soft as she stretches and reaches across to wrap her arms around my neck. I lean into it, and she plants a soft kiss on my lips that wakes my cock, even though my body is begging for sleep.

While I can sense Mackenna's need, I can't be sure if rekindling our passion is from us working these past few hours together or if she genuinely wants to travel down this road with me. There are dozens of questions circling my mind, and I don't want to stop, but I pull away.

It's for our own good. I know what I want. I know whoI want. I won't force her to choose me because we're in this bubble of bliss.

"It is way past my bedtime," she says lazily, bursting our bubble. "Thanks for the ride, Dean."

"Thanks for all your help, Mackenna. Really, I wouldn't have gotten through the night without you."

"It's only right I return the favor, finally." She pauses and lets out a sigh as she pulls her arms from around my neck. With some reluctance, she says, "You don't have to drive home if you're tired. I have a spare bedroom if you want to crash."

My emotions war against my desires. "I'm sorry. I have to get up early, and I don't want to throw your morning off. I'm already running down my list of things to do since I'm going to have to start interviewing folks to replace Hank."

Mackenna strokes the side of my face and lets her thumb run across my bottom lip. I fight the urge to suck on her finger before she offers me a timid smile and gets out of the car. It only takes me a second to get out myself and walk her to the door.

"You're always a fucking gentleman." She giggles as she heads inside.

"The fact that you're wearing a different shirt says I'm far from gentle."

"Far from gentle, indeed. Good night, Dean."

"Good night, Mackenna." I stand in front of the door, mentally kicking myself for not taking up her offer to go inside. If I didn't have to be up in five hours, I would have jumped at the chance, but I tend to put work first.

Instead of beating myself up over sex I'm not having, I head home to beat myself off to fantasies of what should have been. In another life where I didn't care about the health standards of my business, I'd fuck Mackenna all over the bakery and the bar. But no, I have to let my primitive urges subside and let memories of our passionate kisses lull me to sleep.

For now, at least.

3

MACKENNA

The sound of my phone ringing forces my eyes open just as the morning sun's rays greet me from outside my bedroom curtains. A groan crawls out of my throat as the soreness in my legs and back flares when I get out of bed.

My sister's voice is far too chipper when I pick up the screeching device. "Morning, Kenny Penny. Where are you? Are you home yet? I'm coming over unless you went home with some rando from the bar, and that's why your car is still parked outside On the Rocks."

My voice breaks as sleep fades further and further away from me. "You are way too hyper this morning, Maddie. I forgot I drove last night when I got a ride home. I'm going to hop in the shower. Come get me so I can pick it up."

"Fine, but you owe me breakfast," she replies and hangs up.

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