Page 2 of No Going Back
It was the part of moving to Moss Creek that had taken the most getting used to. The people here were actually nice. They took care of each other and liked seeing others happy and succeeding instead of being competitive and cutthroat.
It was… Odd.
Mae rolled her eyes. “Anyone would do that for you.” She lifted the lid on her shortcake, all her focus going to the treat inside. “It’s just common decency.”
“Decency isn’t as common as you think it is.” Dianna reached under the counter to snag a plastic fork free of the bin she kept handy for people who didn’t want to wait to enjoy their treat. She held it out to Mae. “You want a napkin too?”
Mae beamed at her, looking happy and healthy and glowing. Like a woman who knew she was loved and appreciated. “Nah.” She took the fork. “I don’t plan on any of it missing my mouth.” She gave Dianna another wide smile as she pushed out the door. “And I’m serious about helping. You just let me know and I’ll be down here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dianna waved as Mae stepped out onto the sidewalk, a forkful of peaches, whipped cream, and biscuit already halfway to her mouth. Mae paused as she took the bite, eyes rolling closed as she chewed.
Dianna sighed, turning away from the enjoyment that might have been hers, to scan the remnants of the day’s supply.
There weren’t many. Definitely nothing that sounded half as good as that shortcake did.
She checked her watch. There were fifteen more minutes until the closing time posted on the door, and since she did still have a little fresh coffee and a few options left in the cases, she decided to leave the sign on while she went to the back to get started on putting together the next day’s lineup.
She’d gone overboard at the beginning, making all sorts of things that took an ungodly amount of time and effort to assemble and organize. Granted, every bit of it sold out, but she was running herself ragged to do it. It was amazing to see people appreciate what she made, but it wasn’t sustainable.
So she’d started to streamline, narrowing down to the most popular items and then rotating through them in a schedule so everyone knew what was being offered and when. It was working well enough, even if she ended up being frequently disappointed when the treat she wanted most was gone by the end of the day.
Like today.
Dianna gave the tray that used to hold peach shortcakes a final glance on her way to pour the first cup of coffee that would get her through the evening. After adding a little sugar and cream she went to the back room and pulled out the packs of puff pastry that would be cut and baked into the Trifecta Strudels that sold almost as well as the custard-filled donuts she topped with warm chocolate ganache.
She had the pastry out and the ingredients for the sweetened cream cheese that would cover a third of each slice lined down the counter when the bell on the door rang.
“I’m coming.” Dianna worked off her disposable gloves, tossing them into the trash on her way to the swinging door separating the kitchen portion of her small bakery from the retail section, smiling wide in preparation to greet what would likely be her final customer of the day. “How can I help y—”
The question died off in her throat and both feet froze to the floor as she stared at the man waiting on the other side of the counter.
Griffin Fraley stared back at her in all his silver fox glory, looking relaxed as he leaned against the counter in a t-shirt that clung to a body she might have spent a few too many nights remembering since his hasty departure a few months ago.
“You’re back.” The words came out on their own, driven straight from her mouth by shock and no small amount of excitement.
Which was not good.
Griffin slowly smiled, one side of his mouth lifting a little higher than the other into a lopsided expression that edged toward a sexy smirk. “I’m back.”
Dianna resisted the urge to smooth down the front of her apron. To touch her hair. To do something to make herself look more appealing to a man who probably only dated twenty-five-year-olds with perky tits and tight asses.
And she hadn’t been that… ever.
It took every bit of concentration and focus to move her feet toward him. “I’m sure Troy is happy to have you back.”
Griffin straightened away from the counter, giving her a better view of his tall, muscular frame. “I’d like to hope so.” He rested one hand on the surface between them.
The move dragged her eyes down the toned line of his arm, over the tight cord of tanned muscle and bulging vein, to the calloused skin of his fingers.
Never in her life would she have considered hands pornographic, but Griffin’s absolutely were. They made her think, wicked, lustful thoughts involving her body and the things those well-worn hands might be capable of doing to it.
Which proved Griffin was just as much of a distraction today as he was six months ago when he walked into her bakery for the first time.
It took far too much effort to pull her attention from that hand and back to his face, but somehow she accomplished it, adding in a tight smile for good measure. “Is there something I can get you?”
Men were supposed to be the last thing she focused on here in Moss Creek. This move was about finding herself again. Picking up the pieces she had left and filling in the rest in a way she could live with. Proving she was so much more than she’d been told.
But Griffin made that a tough plan to stick to.
