Page 158 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
By the time we finally peel ourselves out of bed, the sun’s shifted a little higher in the sky, spilling bright light through the windows.
It doesn’t take us long to get dressed and take the ten-minute walk down to the shop, all of them crowding around me as I fish my keys out of my jacket pocket and shove them into the door and let them inside.
The smell of cinnamon, sugar, and butter is already thick in the air, mixing with the faint scent of the coffee Liam brought with him.
We get to work setting up, Reece is at the counter, putting treats in the display case with expert precision that makes me suspicious until he tells me he worked in a diner when he was younger.
Jack sticks to the front of the shop, keeping watch of the pedestrians that walk by.
Liam helps me with final prep in the back, making sure I have enough stock to keep us going all morning on the off chance that this rush actually happens.
The bakery feels almost too ready by the time I head up to the door to flip the sign.
Every tray is lined up perfectly, display case glass practically shining.
There’s a little vase of white daisies on the front counter courtesy of Jack from the night before.
I can’t stop wiping my hands down my apron, nervously sweaty.
Liam notices almost instantly.
“You’re gonna rub a hole through that thing if you keep doing that.”
“Sorry,” I manage to squeak out.
Reece leans his elbows on the register counter, watching me.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re not freaking out, Hol. It’s a big day. It’s okay to be nervous. But we’re here to make everything run smoothly. All will be okay."
“I’m not—” But then the bell over the door jingles, and I flinch.
Jack steps back from it, an easy smile on his face. “Hello, welcome to Holly’s Baked Goods.”
I wipe my palms one last time and move around Liam to face my first set of customers.
They’re two women I recognize from the farmer’s market around the corner from here.
They move around the shop slowly, keeping their hips practically mashed together.
I can’t tell if they’re whispering about the reopening, the baby rumors, or both.
But the way their eyes flick over to me then dart away tells me enough.
Liam’s suddenly behind me, leaning casually against the display case, his height and bulk an unspoken wall.
Jack moves back to stick to my right, arranging one of the trays like it needs urgent attention.
Reece lingers over by the register, his arms crossed while he eyes the two women.
When they eventually make their way over to me, I take their order, smile, make small talk, and give them what they’ve paid for.
It’s awkward, but it’s not awful.
Then more people start filtering in.
Some faces are warm and familiar.
Others not so much.
