“That’s way too much.”
“You’re going to need to buy supplies after I wipe you out like this. Just take it.”
Reluctantly, I take the cash, thankful but resistant at the same time. “Um, thank you. I really don’t know what to say.”
He leers at me through the mask, his other eye slightly obstructed by his hair. “Thank you, for starters.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you. Seriously, thank you.”
Out comes a grunt… I think it’s some kind of response, but I don’t speak grumpy biker.
“Ummm, VP, how are we gonna transport this back to the clubhouse?” his friend asks, plucking the question straight out of my head. I would offer up my delivery van, but I didn’t plan on selling out of everything on opening day. That means I’ll need to make more for tomorrow.
Krampus already has his phone out. “Hey, it’s me. I need you to send a cage to this address that I’m sending to you for a pickup. It doesn’t matter what the fuck it is. Just do it.” Once the line goes dead, he turns to me. “Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” He has me baffled. The man just bought out my bakery, and he’s apologizing to me? For what? Riding in on his shiny Harley like a knight in leather-clad armor?
“I got this one, VP. He’s sorry for cussing, sweetheart. He’s trying to impress you, I think. One can’t be too sure. I’ve never seen him be nice before.”
“You can shut up now, Prospect.”
“Right! Shutting up now.” The prospect pretends to zip up his lips, then salutes the other man mockingly.
Krampus and I exchange another burning stare before I break the silence. “It’s going to take me a minute to box all of this up.”
“Gremlin can help you,” he states, pushing the smaller man toward me. “It’s the least he can do after assaulting your ears with his vulgar speech impediment.
Gremlin? That’s another peculiar name for the books.
“I got sticky fingers though,” Gremlin huffs, holding up his hands that are coated in icing.
“So? There’s a sink in the back. Now help the lady, or so help me, you’ll never see another cinnamon roll again.”
“Ugh, you wound me, VP. Never fuck with a man and his pastries.” He shoots me a wary look. “I mean, never mess with a man and his pastries. Sorry, sweetheart. This non-swearing world of yours is hard to get used to.”
He’s learning…
Maybe there’s hope for this Gremlin person after all.
“It’s okay. I may hate swearing, but I understand that it’s a part of your world. I appreciate you trying.”
Gremlin only grins wider. “Say, what’s your name again?”
I hold out my hand, then retract it when he tries to shake it with frosting-coated fingers. “Mindy St. John.”
“I’m Gremlin. That grumpy asshole is Krampus. We’re members of the Elm Street Riders MC. Ever hear of us?”
Shaking my head, I start boxing up everything in my case. “No, should I?”
He frowns. “I thought everyone in Fernley has heard of our club?”
“Well, I just moved here a few months back. I really don’t know very many people yet.” My eyes move to Krampus, dying a little inside when he quickly looks away. I can’t tell if he remembers me and is trying to pretend he doesn’t, or if he truly doesn’t remember me at all. I sure as hell remember him. Those blue eyes have been on my mind constantly since the day we first met.
The towel hits the counter as Gremlin dries his hands, then he puts on some plastic gloves to help me box up the rest of the treats.
“Well, now you know the two of us. Consider this your welcome to Fernley party.” His voice drops as he cautiously moves over to me, keeping his voice low enough for only me to hear as he whispers, “Get out while you can.”
ChapterFour
