Beau’s expression tightened slightly, though the edge was more irritation than real anger.
“Our competition. Pack of wolves run it, two streets over. The alpha’s name is Callum. He’s… a pain,” Beau grumbled.
I took another bite, this one slower, just to keep Beau’s eyes on me. “A delicious pain, apparently.”
That earned a huff of laughter. “Yeah, well, they’ve been here longer. Locals already know them. We’re still the new guys. People aren’t exactly lining up for our pastries yet.”
I chewed thoughtfully, ideas already forming. “I could probably replicate something like this after a few tries,” I told him.
Beau shook his head. “No need to copy. I want something new. Your cardamom honey bun from yesterday? That’s already going on the menu. But I want something that’s ours. Something that makes people talk. We’re doing a 2-for-1 promo this weekend. Gotta hook ‘em fast.”
“I can do that,” I said, a quiet thrill lighting up inside me. “It’d be my pleasure.”
His gaze lingered on me a moment too long, warm, considering, maybe even curious.
And mine? Well. I took another slow sip of coffee, letting the heat warm my hands and chest. But it wasn’t the drink that made me feel flushed.
It was him. Beau. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just the aftermath of a terrifying night and the comfort of unexpected kindness.
But maybe… maybe it was something starting to spark. Put it out of your mind, I warned myself. This wasn’t the time.
I didn’t plan on staying here long. Just long enough to lay low, earn some cash, and figure out my next move. Beau was kind, sure. Generous, even.
But he couldn’t be mine.
Not when I was still running.
Chapter 4
Beau/ Sean
BEAU
The ovens had finally cooled, but Sean hadn’t slowed down all day.
The guy moved like his hands were chasing the rhythm of a song only he could hear, measured, precise, but passionate.
Watching him shape dough was like watching someone cast a spell. His brow furrowed in concentration, lower lip tucked between his teeth, flour dusting his hair like snow.
And gods help me, it was distracting. He was jumpy, though. Like he expected something to explode every time someone dropped a spoon.
I’d caught him flinching more than once, and every time he caught me noticing, he’d offer up a tight smile like it would erase the moment.
It didn’t. If anything, it just made me want to know what the hell he was running from. But I didn’t ask. Not yet. Instead, we focused on the pastries.
We tried a dozen new things. Sweet rolls, fruit tarts, even a honeyed cinnamon braid that had real potential. But it was the bear claw that finally made us both stop and stare.
Sean added a whisper of orange zest to the filling and a light cardamom glaze. It was bold, unexpected… and perfect. He cut one in half and handed me a piece.
“Go ahead. Tell me it’s too much,” he said, arms crossed, watching.
I took a bite. Flaky, rich, just the right balance between sharp and sweet. I swallowed and looked at him.
“It’s magic,” I said simply.
He smiled then. Really smiled. And my heart did something it hadn’t done in a long time. It fluttered. We added it to the weekend promo.
The day didn’t go the way I’d hoped.
