Page 1 of Merry Me Bad Boy

Abby

There is no way to describe how tired I am feeling when I dig out the keys to the bakery. With my thick gloves, it’s hard to pick through them to find the right key.

Waking up at four in the morning every single day can seriously be the worst. Especially during this time of the year. Theholidays.

Breathing out a tired sigh as I accidentally drop the set, a puff of white air fills my vision. Kneeling down, I scoop the keys out of the snow and give them a good shake. Finding the right key, I shuffle inside.

During the holiday season,everyonewants sweets. From chocolate-covered strawberries to decorated cupcakes, I’m sure I’ll have a line waiting by the time I unlock the doors in five hours.

Christmas is a wild time.

Today, the snow is falling hard. There’s already a solid few inches collecting on the road and getting here was a serious pain. Sometimes, on days like this, business can be a little wonky.

Just in case, I still came on time and plan on making the usual amount. Never know if the sun will want to pop out and suddenly melt everything around us. If I get swamped and don’t have enough product to sell, I might as well be shooting myself in the foot.

Making too much is not as bad, I guess. Discounted goods for the next day.

Flicking the lights on in the back, a yawn slips every few minutes while I start turning on the equipment. Once the ovens are on, this chilly room will heat up nicely.

For now, I’ll deal with the goosebumps prickling up on my skin as I shrug off my coat.

By the time I’m tying my hair back and rolling up my sleeves, I’m ready to go. Washing up, the first thing to do is take care of orders. After that, I’ll fill up the display cabinet. Every day is the same, and I’m feeling content.

It’s a bit for one baker to do, but I manage. Having been in this town for a few years now, I’m not the kind of person to let a little cold wind and snow get me down.

However, with the amount of orders I have on this page, maybe I should think about at least taking in some applications for a helping hand. Someone to lighten the load a bit.

I’ll have plenty of time to think about it while I’m working.

* * *

The bell on the door rings with only thirty minutes to spare. Abandoning the baking area, I pluck off my gloves and toss them away on the way to the front.

I barely make it without tripping over my own feet.

Holey Moley.

Who is this giant standing in my bakery with a hard look on his face?

Heat crawls up my throat as I take notice of the stranger. Never seen this guy before in my life. I’m almost embarrassed about the flour covering the front of my apron.

Usually, I have a worker run the front while I stay in the back. Not today. I almost want to yank off the apron before I’m noticed.

Why did Jen’s car have to get stuck in her driveway?

Taking in an uneven breath, I ease my racing heart and slowly approach the register.

The way he’s staring down at my selection of sweets in the display cabinet, I can’t help but wonder if the guy got lost and somehow fumbled in.

Normally, people know right away what kind of dessert they want when they come in. Not this man. No, he’s staring so hard at the gingerbread man-shaped cookies that I’m going to watch them come to life and run away.

With all the snow outside, maybe he came in looking for warmth. The heaters are working overtime today. I can feel the heat beneath my flour-covered apron.

“Can I help you?” I ask as soon as I find my voice. Trying to fight the urge to wipe my hands on my apron to take care of the clammy feeling, I flatten them on the surface.

Looking up from the glass, steel-colored eyes meet my boring brown. Immediately, my stomach tightens as he straightens up a bit. That frown carved on his lips flattens and I’m left stirring where I stand.

I’m a bit uncomfortable. My heart is beating harder than normal.

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