Page 19 of Rise of the King

Thursday morning,my new hire, Lyla, and I are working in comfortable silence while we restock Sweet Temptation’s shelves once the morning rush dies down. I’m a multitasking queen today. Cookies are baking in the oven, cupcakes are cooling on their racks, and the scent of fresh crème brûlée coffee brewing is wafting through the air, mixing beautifully with the sweet smell of the scones Lyla is placing in the bakery case.

And I’m taking inventory. Not the most fun but necessary.

I trained as a pastry chef for two years back in Washington before I left. I never got to finish my training, but I got far enough. Owning a bakery was always my goal. I wanted to be my own boss. To be able to create what I wanted.

I love experimenting with new flavors.

With mixing savory and sweet.

Getting to choose what I want to create and not what I don’t has its perks.

I enjoy so many aspects of being my own boss.

Inventory is not one of them.

But if I do it now, during my downtime, I won’t need to do it later after the shop closes. This is my version of winning, even though it being the highlight of my day makes me feel much older than twenty-four.

Of course, that highlight gets bumped down a rung when the bells above the door chime and Sam and Dean walk through.

I haven’t seen Sam since I left the restaurant Saturday night. He looks good today in a charcoal grey suit with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the top. His face is scruffy, and his cobalt eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses. Sam moves through the shop to stand across from me at the counter and removes his glasses, looking down at me while I kneel behind the shelves. “Hey, Snow. What’cha doing down there?”

Standing up, I wipe my hands on my apron and glance over to see Lyla stumbling over her words as Dean peruses today’s coffee options.

I don’t blame her.

These two are a sight to behold.

They could probably make a nun blush.

“I was doing inventory.” A glance at the clock has me cocking my brow. “You’re running a little late today, Sam.”

He ignores my comment as a devilish smile creeps across his chiseled face. “Do I smell chocolate chips?” I don’t know how he does it.

“I swear you have an uncanny radar for my cookies.” I nod my head toward the kitchen. “Come on.” Once I let Lyla know I’ll be in the back if she needs me, I look over at Dean and point. “You. Don’t give her a hard time.”

Dean looks at me with a Who me? expression plastered across his face and a rumbling chuckle that makes me want to smack him as he smiles at Lyla.

With Sam following me into the kitchen, I adjust my hair and hope I don’t look as tired as I feel. “Could you please tell your friend not to bang my new employee? The last one quit after he never called her back.”

Sam walks around my commercial kitchen, looking for his cookies, but then he stops and stares at me. “She was a clinger. You didn’t want her working here anyway.”

“That’s for me to decide, Samuel. Not Dean.” He studies me, shaking his head before we both laugh.

“Fine. She wasn’t the best employee. But there have to be better ways for me to figure that out than them quitting after a one-night stand with your best friend.”

I pick up my bag of frosting, ready to continue my multitasking badassery and frost some cupcakes when Sam offers me his finger. I know what he wants and pipe a line of decadent chocolate fudge buttercream on the tip of his finger before starting to frost my Death by Chocolate cupcakes.

I watch as he slowly sucks the fudge frosting from his finger and then looks around again. “This is good, Snow, but I know you’ve got the cookies hiding somewhere.”

Damn. I’d love for him to suck that chocolate fudge off my finger.

Shit. I swear my nipples tighten just thinking about it.

No. I refuse to think like that. Sam Beneventi is my friend and needs to stay firmly planted in that zone. The friend zone. The no-sucking-allowed zone.

Unless friend sucking is allowed.

Nope. Not going there.

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