"Uh-huh. I should cancel since it ended up working out so well, but I’ll be nice and send you the address. You can pick it up anytime today."
“You’re the bestest friend ever!” I glanced at my watch and cringed. “But I gotta go. I’ll call later.” I disconnected the call and started the car. Before I pulled out of my parking space, Jeff sent a text with an address on Fifth Street.
Right next to the bakery I was on my way to.Talk about kismet!
The drive across town was quick, and I found parking easily on Fifth Street. The milk pickup was in what looked like a small apartment entrance next to a bakery.
Finally, luck was on my side. I'd get the crates into my car and then grab the milk.
The bakery was called Sweetie Pies, and the window display was gorgeous. Perfectly arranged pies and cookies made my mouth water just looking at them. A little bell chimed when I pushed open the door, and the smell of butter and sugar hit me immediately.
I made a mental note to grab some cookies to enjoy with my milk.
It was warm and cozy inside with a few tables and a long display case showing off all kinds of baked goods.
Just looking at them made my stomach rumble because I accidentally forgot to eat breakfast.
A woman at the counter smiled at me. "Welcome to Sweetie Pies. What can I get you?"
"Oh, I'm actually here to see..." I shifted the box in my arms and realized I didn’t ask for a name. "I’m here about the wrong honey delivery?"
Her face lit up with recognition. "Oh! You're the honey guy. Let me grab Patrick for you."
She disappeared through a door behind the counter, and I stood there clutching my box as my heart started to beat faster.
She just said Patrick. The baker's name was Patrick.
What were the odds?
As soon as I heard footsteps, I looked up and my heart stopped because the man walking toward me in a flour-dusted apron and an expression of complete shock was Patrick.
My Patrick.
The lumberjack Daddy from the bar.
4
PATRICK
Allen was standing in my bakery.
Holding a box of honey.
My brain short-circuited for a moment, trying to process what I was seeing. The cute guy from last night, the one I couldn't stop thinking about…was the honey farmer. Was that even what they called them? Whatever, he was the same honey farmer whose voice I'd heard on the phone twenty minutes ago and thought sounded familiar.
I wasn't imagining things. It really was him.
Allen's eyes went wide, and his cheeks flushed that pretty pink I remembered from last night. The box in his arms started to slip, so I lunged forward to catch it before it could hit the ground.
My arms crossed over his on the sides of the box, and we stood there frozen for a moment. Standing so close to him, I could smell that same sweet scent wafting off him. Now I recognized it as honey. It suited him.
"Patrick." Allen’s voice was breathy in both shock and maybe a little relief. “Hi.”
"Hey." I smiled and pulled the box out of his arms. "So you're my honey guy."
"And you're my baker. I mean,thebaker." Allen's lips quirked up in a small smile. "Small world."
"It is, indeed." I couldn't stop staring at him. He looked different in the daylight, softer somehow. His hair was a little messy like he'd been running his hands through it, and there was a smudge of something on his cheek. I wanted to reach up and wipe it away. "Nice to see you again."
