He turned and flashed her a dazzling smile. “Just came in to introduce myself. Name’s Wesley Rivers. I opened a bakery across the street.”
“Oh wow, I didn’t even notice.”
The corner of Wesley’s lip twitched upwards, and he sauntered closer until only the worktable separated them. “Right. I wanted to say hi to my neighbor and give you a few of these.” He set down a box tied with a red ribbon. Even covered, the scent of butter and lemon wafted through, obnoxiously pleasant.
Maude set her mortar down and finally looked up at him, her sea-green eyes locking onto his with an intensity that could wither plants.
“What isthat?”
He looked momentarily confused, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the way his face scrunched up. “Oh, it’s what I whipped up for the shop this morning. Cardamom teacakes and lemon-curd shortbread.”
“Sounds nauseating.”
“Pardon?”
“Great. Sounds justgreat.”
He stood there quietly for a moment before laughing outright in her face.
“What is so funny?” she snapped.
“Just—you, you’re funny. Though I’m not sure what I expected coming into a shop like this,” he said, his laughter subsiding into a chuckle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I don’t mean to be rude. Just that I don’t know why I expected anything other thanwhat you’re throwing at me from the woman who owns the scariest store in town.”
“Mystore is scary?Yourstore is the one scaring away all of my customers!”
He glanced around her empty shop.
Maude bristled. “Well, maybe if your bakery didn’t look like a unicorn threw up on it, my customers wouldn’t be so distracted.” She shot a glare toward the window, where the cheerfulOpening Daybanner fluttered.
Wesley snorted. “You never stopped to think that your lack of business has anything to do with…” He gestured vaguely toward her, his hand sweeping through the air as if to encapsulate her entire being as the issue.
She ground her teeth. “My clients prefer a harder touch.”
“Right, because enforcing a‘no smiling’policy is the key to business success,” he quipped, the smirk on his face growing.
Maude’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “It sets the mood,Wesley. My shop, my rules. If people want glitter and rainbows, they can prance over to your Sunshine Bakery.”
“Sugar High Bakery,” he corrected, his grin fully formed.
“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Her boots clicked against the worn wooden floor as she strode toward the door. She flung it open, and the bell above chimed—a low, ghostly sound she’d picked because it reminded her of a horror show. “Run along; I’m sure you have dough to knead or egos to feed.”
He took the hint and headed toward the exit, but not without tossing one last jab over his shoulder. “Already did both this morning. Unlike you, I’m productive before noon.”
Maude slammed the door so hard the bell gave a startled, angry jangle before it snapped off its hook and clattered to the floor.
Three
“If I have another one of those tonics, I’m going to hurl.”
“That’s the idea!” Oli sang out, tipping yet another one down Selene’s throat.
Maude rolled her eyes. “Nothing says ‘healing’ like projectile vomiting.”
