She gave him a quick backward glance. “Get your tight, wet shirt and sexy muscles out of here. I’ll get a few friends to help me dry this place out, and you stop by about eight tomorrow morning and we’ll talk.”
Oooh, the sass was back.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Damn right,” she said, and disappeared behind the doors with a sway of her hips he’d be thinking about all fucking night.
Chapter Three
Getting a few friendsin to help dry out the bakery turned out to be unnecessary after a three-person restoration crew showed up a couple of hours after Dax left. When she’d tried to protest that she hadn’t hired them, she was given a receipt that showed the service was paid in full. Anonymously. By late afternoon, they had everything moved, aired out, dried and put back together. They’d left three big fans running with the promise to be back to get them. Luckily, all the commotion hadn’t produced any new raccoons.
When she’d returned to Sticky Sweet this morning, the atmosphere felt better inside. Spirits a bit lifted, she decided to do a little baking. More from desire than necessity at this point.
Allie wiped her forehead on her sleeve to get rid of the flour dust tickling her face, and then put all her frustration into rolling out cookie dough.
There was no question that Dax Mitchell was behind hiring and paying for the restoration crew. As grateful as she was, all Allie could see was dollar signs. And a fair amount of red. She’d never authorized him to send anyone over. It occurred to her that she didn’t even have his number so she could call and chew his ass.
What a nice ass it would be to chew on.
She flushed all over just thinking about Dax’s huge body taking up the entire doorframe. He’d been a delicious mix of arrogant sassiness and sweetness, and hot! Lord was that man hot.
Her experience with shifters was limited to her relationship with Blake. Except for their size, it was almost impossible to tell a shifter from a regular human at first glance. For the most part, they kept to their own, preferring to mingle among their own communities in the mountainous area. The shifter men from the Estes Park pack seemed so cocky and full of themselves—all proud of their muscles and alpha swagger, trying to impress her as she filled white bakery bags with cookies and rolls.
Her upper lip curled. Then again, the human men she’d dated had all turned out to be wrong too.
Dax might have one big selling point though. No way would that man have a small dick.
Her face went hot. She looked around as if her friend Becks could have heard her thoughts, but she was asleep on a stool in the corner in true narcoleptic fashion.
Allie squirmed a little and wiped a hand over her forehead. She’d had some crazy reaction to the man, for sure. All it took was his eyes on her and her latent sex drive, came alive. Wrap her legs around that man’s tasty hips and grind herself into oblivion? Yes, please!
“What’s that look on your face?”
Her dad turned with a large metal tray in his oven-mitted hands. She, Becks, and her dad had come in at five a.m. to start cleaning, but Becks’ narcolepsy medications had been recently changed and her need for a nap found her on the stool with her head in her hands. Allie pulled her dad into the back to help make a few dozen cookies and some other treats. What good was a bakery without sweets? Even a ruined bakery closed to customers had to be filled with a tantalizing aroma, if nothing else, to remind Allie why she put so much of her heart and soul into this place.
She inspected the sheet of chocolate chip toffee cookies before indicating he should put them on the racks. He couldn’t bake to save his life, but he was a great right-hand man.
