Page 1 of Melody’s Little Secret

Chapter One

Melody

Scanning the kitchen, I took a minute to think. I needed salt. I checked and rechecked all of my supply cabinets. I kept a detailed inventory sheet because of my current tendency to get overwhelmed. Padding off to the office, I made a face. It had gotten messy and unorganized in here and it didn’t help my overwhelmed brain. Spying the sheet, I cringed as I plucked it out from under several day-old coffee mugs. I’d meant to place an order last week and completely forgot.

No big deal. I’d place an expedited order and spend a little extra money. Satisfied that I’d be able to finish the pastries, I noticed the delivery date.

Tomorrow!Running to the grocery store would take way too much time and put me totally off schedule. Wracking my brain, I remembered the Italian restaurant at the end of the street on the corner. They’d certainly have salt and, hopefully, they’d have enough to share. I could offer to pay them for it or just to replace what I borrowed when my order came in. It wasn’t that big of a favor really. Easy Peasey. I mentally cheered myself on as I grabbed my purse and prepared to leave the bakery. My social anxiety flared when it came to asking others for help. I’d been independent for a long time. I could handle things on my own, but sometimes it was okay to ask for things. It was okay to accept help from others. I reminded myself that I was still the same badass independent woman as always.

Striding along the back alleyways behind the chain of buildings that made up one section of downtown Hopevale, I said it out loud. The backdoor to the restaurant stood ajar and before I lost my nerve and decided the grocery trip wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be, I stepped over the threshold. The kitchen hummed with a quiet cadence, not bustling like I’d thought it would be. Instantly, I noticed someone standing in front of a large counter. I admired his skills as he rolled a ball of dough before kneading it with his hands. His forearms flexed and released as he did it, and I ogled appreciatively as he continued his work.

“May I help you?”

Startling out of my thoughts, I realized I’d been staring at him for far longer than appropriate. His mouth twitched at the corners. He’d caught me watching him. How embarrassing.

“The restaurant isn’t open for a few more hours,” he informed me, and I searched for a reason that I’d just walked into someone else’s business without even knocking.

“The backdoor was open.” That was the best excuse I could come up with in my flustered state.

“Do you routinely sneak into the backdoors of businesses?” His smile deepened, accentuating his chiseled jawline at the same time as it melted my panties.

Chill, Mel. Salt, just ask for salt.

“No. I-um-I’m from the bakery a few doors down. I ran out of salt, and I have a pending order I need to fill. I was hoping maybe you might have a container I could borrow until I get my delivery?” Tucking a stray piece of hair from my pony-tail out of my face, I hoped my cheeks weren’t pink with embarrassment.

“Sure thing.” He stopped messing with the dough and washed his hands. “I’m Bosco.”

“I’m Melody.”

“Nice to meet you, Melody.”

I fought to keep my eyes off of him but failed. His hair had little bits of flour in it, and his tee-shirt and jeans were caked with it. For some reason, it upped his attractiveness factor. His dark curly hair was pulled away from his face in a black bandana tied around his head, but a few tufts slipped out. I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands through it. His smile broadened as I stared. Finding myself lost in the deep brown pools of his eyes, I finally realized he had said something and was waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“I asked if you’re running the shop all by yourself?”

“Yeah, it’s just me. I’m staying in the apartment above the shop so there is zero commute time.” I laughed at my own rambling, nerves prickling through me again.

“No commute is certainly a perk. How long have you lived in Hopevale? I can’t believe we haven’t run into each other before,” he asked as he went to a tall cabinet and pulled out a container of salt.

“I moved here two months ago, but I’ve had a lot to do in order to get the shop running. I haven’t gotten around to exploring Hopevale as much as I’d like.” I dragged my toes across the tiled floor, focusing on my pink and teal sneakers instead of the handsome man walking toward me. “I’ve been sort of stuck in my own world. I’ve been meaning to check out the other local businesses. Your restaurant is always so busy.”

“I’m never too busy to network.” Bosco held out the salt, patiently waiting for me to grab it.

“Thank you.”

“You should stop by the restaurant one night and bring a few of your baked goods. People are always looking for something sweet after dinner.”

“I’m pretty sweet.”

Did I just say that?

Heat flamed my face, and I hoped I wasn’t blushing as I wished for a trap door to open for me to fall through, to get away from my awkward statement. I attempted to clarify. “My treats are sweet! I mean the concoctions in my store, not me of course. I’m not edible. I mean not like that.” I needed to get out of there before I really embarrassed myself. Spinning around on my heels, I made a beeline for the door. Bosco stepped into my escape path.

“Do you think you could make us a sample platter? Say, fifty dollars’ worth?” He plucked some cash out of his wallet along with a business card. “Give me a call and I’ll come pick it up.”

Staring at his hand, I bit down on my lip. “I’ve got a lot of orders right now.”

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