Page 7 of Melody’s Little Secret

“I apologize for my less than pleasant attitude.” Claudia pivoted on her heel and returned to the counter. “I’m not used to having to run errands and it’s made me rather grumpy. It’s not an excuse, but if I don’t return to the office with pastries from your shop then I could be fired. Please reconsider my order?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and dropped my hand. I wasn’t entirely convinced of her sincerity, but I didn’t really want to be part of the cause of someone losing their job either. I slipped on a pair of gloves, selected four dozen assorted pastries and tied up the boxes with a pretty bow on each one. I bagged them in my signature teal gift bags and set her packages on the counter.

“One hundred dollars for the expedited service. Large orders require forty-eight hours advanced notice next time,” I informed her.

“Thank you.” She plucked an additional twenty from her wallet and handed it to me. “I appreciate your time.”

“Have a nice day.” Disposing of my gloves, I took my time returning to the counter. “I hope you didn’t want to buy pastries. She cleaned me out.”

“No, I don’t want to buy pastries.”

“Do you need salt? I got a shipment so I can replace the container I borrowed.”

“No, I don’t need the salt right now.”

“Are you here about your order? I’ve sold out most of my inventory in a few days. I’ve spent all my free time in the kitchen replacing it. I do have some cupcakes; would you like those instead?” Nerves hummed through my body and caused me to rapidly fire questions at him, hardly waiting for him to answer. “Or maybe some cookies? Or I can always whip up a pan of brownies in about thirty to forty-five minutes.”

“You can take your time with the order, I’m in no rush.”

“Well, then why are you here?” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. His proximity flustered me more in my shop than it had in his for some reason. I just couldn’t stop staring at his forearms.

“If you’d let me speak–” His cell phone chirped loudly, interrupting whatever he’d been poised to say. “I apologize, but I have to take this call.”

I watched appreciatively as Bosco strutted across the store to the back corner. His jeans stretched nicely, outlining the tight muscles of his ass. Suddenly a larger than usual crowd crammed into the shop, and they excitedly pushed against the counter. Lots of them were young kids babbling about the pretty icing swirls on my cupcakes and fun cookie shapes. Compliments from children filled my bucket faster than anything else. They were so excited! They told me their favorite colors and flavors, and each new customer pointed at a different treat. I was so busy filling orders, I didn’t even notice when Bosco left.

After the lunch rush there was a lull at my shop, and I closed down for a well-deserved lunch break. I had an overwhelming taste for Italian and I knew just where to find one.

It.

I knew just where to find it. I shook my head at my own crazy thoughts as I strolled into Topping Masters, smiling at the last customer as he left with his pizza box in hand. Bosco was standing behind the counter and the instant we made eye contact, I could feel my panties dampen. Damn I was a mess and I needed to get myself together.

“Hi.” I plastered on a smile full of confidence I didn’t have. “Sorry about earlier. What did you need?”

“What did I need?” Bosco cocked an eyebrow.

“You came into my shop like an hour ago, but you had to take a phone call. I got slammed and when I looked up, you were gone. So, I came by to see what you needed.” I played out the story in gestures as I spoke, prompting him to remember.

“I apologize,piccola, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been stuck here. I’ve been meaning to visit. So many of my customers tell me how delicious your creations are.”

At that moment, I realized he’d changed his clothes and maybe even trimmed his beard? I’d definitely checked him out earlier and I wasn’t one to forget details. What the heck was going on? “Is this some sort of prank?”

Bosco tilted his head, studying me with an odd expression. “I do love a good prank, but I promise this isn’t one of them.”

“Oh my god. Whatever. Knock it off and tell me why you were in my shop earlier.” I was getting frustrated.

“Careful,piccola.” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he stared across the counter at me. “I have ways of dealing with bratty little customers who march themselves into my restaurant and throw their attitudes around. I doubt you want to push your luck.”

I swallowed hard. He couldn't possibly mean what I hoped he meant, could he? My brat peeked her head out excitedly.

“I donothave an attitude,” I argued.

“There’s so much sass in your tone. Want to try that again?”

I did. I did want to trythatagain, but I caught myself. I didn’t know Bosco well enough to be poking for a reaction. My bravado melted away and I felt my entire body sag. “I’m sorry. It’s been a stressful day.”

“Do you want to talk about it? We may be strangers, but I’m a good listener and I’ve been told many stories over a basket of our famous garlic knots.” He came out from behind the counter and gestured toward a table.

I stared at him for a moment, wanting to open up, but something about his tone seemed different. I’d been crushing on him since the moment I saw him preparing dough in the back of the restaurant. I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head after seeing him this morning. Why then did he act like he didn’t know who I was?

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