She reached for another sugar packet. “Big and brooding’s nice to look at, but I’m more into confidence and a three-piece suit.” She dumped the crystals into her already-sweet coffee and stirred, looking up when Richard snorted.
“Oh yeah? And how did your last five dates with the suit-wearing ‘so-confident-it-borders-on-narcissism’ guys go?” Richard just laughed when she stirred her coffee harder. “I’m not saying date the hot baker, and anyway, you probably already scared him off. But I am saying maybe what you think is your type is really more your mom’s type, and you’re only dating them to win her approval.”
“Hey!” Her mug hit the table with a thunk, and Richard raised his hands in surrender.
“Ooooh, sorry. I retract. It’s your fault and your fault alone that you’re the most single girl in Chicago.”
“Damn righ— Hey!” she said again, but he just laughed evilly and went to fetch another refill for himself.
She twisted in her chair to call after him, “Everybody loves a man in a suit!” but her words were lost in the scream of the cappuccino machine. She exhaled a similar gust of hot, agitated air and turned back around in time to see the door swing open to admit the big blond baker. Erik, he’d said. And her eyes hadn’t deceived her during their previous two meetings. He was, to dust off a word she hadn’t had much use for previously, positively strapping. All he needed was an ax and a blue ox.
Nope. Definitely not her type.
Bright blue eyes swept the crowded shop and landed on her. As before, not even the tiniest flicker in his somber expression showed that he recognized her as he weaved through the packed tables with surprising grace for such a big man. When he reached the table, he stood close enough that the scent of vanilla on his skin edged out the acrid burn of coffee beans.
“Hi.” She tipped her head up, up, up. “Do me a solid and sit down before I permanently damage my neck.”
He complied and laced his fingers together on the table in front of him. “Hello,” he said, studying her with a frown hovering at the edge of those unreadable blue eyes. Yet again, she was reminded of her uncharacteristically frazzled appearance. She couldn’t have paused to apply a little lip gloss at some point?
She was about to fall into a vanity-induced downward spiral when Richard returned to take control of the situation.
“If you’re not here to apologize, don’t bother getting comfortable.” Her friend took his seat like royalty reclaiming the throne, and the big man across from him grimaced.
“Iamhere to apologize. And to make you an offer.”
Richard sipped his coffee and said nothing. Mr. Strong but Silent cast her a glance she couldn’t interpret before turning back to Richard, his massive shoulders heaving upward before slumping back down. “I let myself spend too much time in the back. I had no idea she was…” The muscles in his jaw bunched and released. “I’m sorry.”
Richard’s mouth hardened. “That’s great, but I’m sorry doesn’t cut it when—”
“And I quit.”
His words stopped Richard short.
“I should’ve quit a long time ago.” Erik unlocked his fingers and flattened them on the table. “And if you’re still looking for a baker, I could use the work. I’m…” Pink invaded the blades of his cheeks above his golden scruff. “I made and decorated the cakes at the Cake Shoppe. I’m the reason it’s been successful.”
“How long did you work there?” Josie asked.
“Close to half a year.”
Richard glanced at her. “Right around the time the bakery started getting buzz for those gorgeous designs.”
“And the flavors,” Erik added, ducking his head.
He ducked his head.Josie blinked. Had she just witnessed a genuine apology followed by genuine bashful modesty? She clearly spent too much time with marketing bros who never apologized and never missed the chance to brag. This denim-clad creature in front of her was some entirely new style of masculinity.
“We weren’t properly introduced before.” Richard set his drink on the table. “I’m Richard Washington. This is Josie Ryan. And you are?”
“Erik Andersson.”
Richard leaned forward with a hard gleam in his eye. “Was she pissed when you left?”
Erik’s lips twitched. “Not as pissed as she’ll be when she realizes I didn’t leave any of my recipes behind.”
“Hey! Good for you!” Josie held her hand up for a high five, and after a moment’s hesitation, he delivered the world’s most gentle smack to her palm. His dinner-plate hand dwarfed hers.Mmmm. Big hands, big—
“So the hazelnut,” Richard said. Damn his timing. “That was you? And the pistachio?”
Erik nodded.
