Page 1 of Baking with Bryan

Chapter1

Nora

Thwack.Something hard, black, and smoldering slams to the right of my head, and I jump away from the navy-blue door marked by the…. puck? I jump away and duck to protect myself.

“What the hell?” I step inside the house cautiously to escape the cold. Examining the weapon that attempted to assassinate me, I kick the charred circle aside.Was this meant to be edible?I nudge it with the toe of my boot, and it crumbles. Wrinkling my nose at the acrid bitter scent of char, I shut the door firmly behind me.

“Jesus. I’m sorry Nor. Are you okay?” Bryan rushes toward me in a red apron with chili peppers and the word spicy in flames across the chest. Flour splattered his face, his black hair is ruffled, and his cool demeanor is missing. A sense of knowing hits me.

“Are you baking?” I whisper. A stellar cook, Bryan has always been abysmal at baking.

“Well, I was trying.” He gestures toward the stove. My eyes widen in horror at the graveyard of pucks shellacked to the cookie sheet.

“What is that?”

Sighing, he exhales. His dark brown eyes are full of irritation and disgust.

Smiling, I shake my head. “Are they handmaid ninja stars?”

His chiseled jaw ticks and his full lips press together in an irresistible pout that reminds me of our younger years.

I place a gentle hand on his bicep, admiring how it flexes beneath my fingers. “I thought we agreed a long time ago you’d do the cooking and leave the baking to me. You know the one who does it professionally?”

“We can’t all be blessed with the baking pedigree of the Shores.” He snarked. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It's not like him.

“What’s up?” I lift an eyebrow and rub his arm. I can’t stop touching him. “It’s not like you to get this worked up over a mishap in the kitchen.”

“I wanted to do this for my mom.” His voice is soft and full of emotion.

“Do what?” I nod toward the kitchen counter's chaotic mess, unable to connect the dots.

“Work my way up to her favorite Christmas dessert. The Buche de Noel. It’s a Christmas log cake Dad always made for her.”

My chest aches at the sorrow lacing his words. “This is the first Christmas without him,” I whisper. We all miss Raul’s warmth, kindness, and humor. His heart attack was sudden, and his death left an immense hole.

“You know my mom. She’s been a trooper. I know she tries to hide the worst of her depression from us, but I see it. I want to give her back something she probably thought she lost with his passing. It’s minuscule compared to what she lost.” He shakes his head. “But it’s a bit of him back.”

“I think it’s sweet.” I rest my head against his shoulder, wishing I could take away some of his sadness. “And very thoughtful.”

“If I could manage.” The self-deprecating tone takes me by surprise.

“Hey! You’re trying to go from ground zero to one hundred. A yule log isn’t easy.”

“Especially since I couldn’t even manage s’mores cookies.” He side-eyes the charred remains. “I wanted to show them I’m more capable than they realized.”

Vulnerable, his expression is open and full of hurt.

“Who’s thetheywe’re talking about?” I study his face.

“My family.” He shrugs. “Myself. With Dad gone, it has doubled the responsibilities for the rest of us running our end of the nursery. I want to step up and do my share, but they still treat me like I’m a teenager.”

I bite my tongue. Now isn’t the time to remind Bryan he hadn’t taken a serious interest in the family business over the years. Created by an earlier generation, the Perez nursery thrived because they continued to grow, give excellent service, and sweat and sacrifice when necessary.

“I know I used to do the bare minimum and leave things to my siblings. But I’m ready to change that now.” Bryan exhales.

“Hell, I’ve been trying to show them that over the past year. I pick up extra shifts and take over the management duties for Mom so she can spend more time pursuing her own interests, but they seem to have up a wall and blinders.” He runs a hand through his thick black locks worriedly.

“It’s infuriating. I took the time to have fun and sow my oats. I’m ready to take my place in the business and–” Bryan trails off, and my breath catches. His words are ripping at my reasons to keep my true feelings to myself.

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