Mitch fought the urge to bring up Faith’s smoke-filled bakery again. Why did his thoughts constantly circle back to her?
And why did his heart quicken every time his mind conjured up her image, her voice, and the spirited teasing that—for reasons he couldn’t understand—he yearned to resume the moment he got back to his apartment?
He’d brushed off Troy’s dating remarks, stopping short of declaring his disinterest in women altogether.
And it frustrated him to no end that the one woman hedidhave an interest in remained a mystery, one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to solve.
CHAPTER 4
Faith punched the flower-shaped cookie cutter into the pressed dough with more force than the poor confection deserved.
Every night for almost thirty years, she had slept peacefully. Like a baby. When people claimed they had vivid dreams that they could recount in graphic detail, she often questioned the legitimacy behind those assertions. To Faith, the act of dreaming was a little like believing in fairies or Santa Claus. Not real.
She figured it was entirely possible that she did dream once her eyes shut, and that she just wasn’t one of the lucky ones able to remember the stories that played behind her eyelids.
But this morning, she wouldn’t even call those people lucky.
Because she had dreamt, and vividly, at that.
Maybe it was more accurate to classify it as a nightmare. There had been a fire, after all. High stakes and all of that. And, of course, it was her beloved bakery up in flames.
Just like the other day with the smoke and the commotion, it was Mitch who attempted to come to her rescue.
Only in her dream, he’d been shirtless and carrying a Dalmatian puppy.A puppy.What was that all about?
Faith crumpled the cookie dough into her hand and rolled it into a ball, unsatisfied with the crudely cut out shapes.
Why was she dreaming about Mitch?
He wasn’t a hero. Sure, he’d fed her a meal which was a thoughtful gesture, but it wasn’t like the guy was a savior. She did not want him occupying her thoughts during the day, let alone infiltrate the time of night when she was supposed to be catching up on her rest.
And this morning, she was anything but well-rested. It took three swipes of concealer and a highly caffeinated drink from Bitter Cold to combat the dark circles under her tired eyes. Even as she stood in the back of her bakery, pounding out the dough for a batch of sugar cookies headed to the Snowdrift Inn and getting to work on wedding cake samples for her friend Rachel, she couldn’t fully wake up.
She was stuck in that dream, reliving every moment, particularly the one where Mitch burst through the doors with too much sweat glistening from his startlingly bare, rippling abs.
She wasn’t like this. She didn’t swoon. And yet, there was a wooziness that made her feel weak in the knees and fluttery in her stomach.
No. She wasnotgoing to romanticize Mitch Abernathy like that.
Especially when he never even came home to his apartment last night.
Faith hadn’t been waiting up or anything. She wasn’t perched at her window, anticipating his comings and goings like some weirdo.
She just knew she would have heard him had he taken to the stairs at any point in the evening. The guy wore bulky shoes and had heavy footfalls.
Flouring the big butcher block counter, she attempted to roll out her dough again. She did not need the distraction of Mitch’swhereabouts—or his imagined abdominal muscles—keeping her from her work. She had a job to do, one her devoted customers counted on. And she had a goal: to be chosen as one of the bakers included in this year’s Sweetheart Soiree. It was an honor her father held for multiple years running, but Faith hadn’t been bold enough to throw her own hat in the ring since taking over the establishment.
This year, she had the confidence. Or, shedidhave the confidence until a few days ago when a certain someone waltzed into her town, her bakery, her apartment complex, and now, her dreams. She couldn’t get rid of the guy, especially when it came to her intrusive thoughts.
Had he spent the night at someone’s house? It was entirely possible that Mitch had a significant other. Honestly, it would be strange if he didn’t. He was good looking, with a confident charisma that many women would be drawn to. He was quick witted and engaging, if you liked that sort of thing.
DidFaithlike that sort of thing? She pitched her rolling pin aside and huffed. It didn’t matter. Faith didn’t have time to date, and she didn’t fraternize with neighbors in that way. It was a rule she’d only recently established. As in, when she found out Mitch was her new neighbor. But it seemed like an important one she should adhere to.
“Yoo-hoo!”
She hadn’t registered the chiming jingle of the bells above the bakery’s entrance, her thoughts too loud within her own head. Then again, they only worked about half the time anyway, something she’d need to fix once she finally had some free time.
“You back there?” Sarah Hart’s sweet voice breeched the noise of Faith’s inner dialogue. “Faith?”
