And my heart was pounding hard. From nerves, maybe. From him, probably.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. Then regretted how shaky I sounded. “I mean, yeah. I’m fine. Just… saw the sign.”
He blinked. “The Help Wanted sign?”
“Unless you meant another one,” I said, trying to smile. It came out crooked. I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly self-conscious. “I bake. Went to culinary school for it. Well, kind of. Didn’t finish.”
His gaze swept over me. Not in a creepy way, more like he was reading a book he wasn’t sure he believed yet. Then, to my surprise, his mouth quirked up at the corner.
A smile. Barely there, but I felt it like a touch to the chest.
“You any good?” he asked, voice warm with quiet amusement.
“Good enough to know you used too much nutmeg in that apple bread,” I said, pointing to the cooling rack behind him.
He turned slightly, then let out a breath of a laugh. “Dang it. Rafael told me that too.”
“Rafael?” I asked.
“My best friend. You’ll meet him.” His eyes lingered on mine a second too long, and I swore the air shifted between us. “You got a name?”
“Sean,” I said. “You?”
“Beau.”
Beautiful.I didn’t say it out loud, but my brain supplied it without hesitation. And it fit him.
He stepped around the counter then, and I stiffened slightly. An instinct I couldn’t quite kill. But all he did was hold out his hand, big and flour-dusted and warm.
I stared at it for a heartbeat too long before slipping mine into his. And… wow.
His hand dwarfed mine. Rough palm, strong grip, heat spreading from the contact like wildfire. Something low and electric hummed through me. My breath hitched.
I looked up and caught him looking at me, really looking, and for a second, we just stood there. Holding hands in the middle of a sleepy bakery like the world hadn’t just broken both of us a little.
“I could use the help,” he said softly, letting go too soon.
I nodded, heart thudding. “And I could use a place to breathe.”
Beau studied me a moment longer, and I could feel that alpha energy simmering beneath his calm exterior. Strong. Unshakable. I should’ve felt small next to him, but I didn’t.
I felt…strangely safe.
Beau leaned against the counter, arms folded, the muscles in his forearms flexing beneath his black tee. Don’t stare, I chided to myself.
He watched me with that steady, unreadable gaze that made my skin prickle.
“So,” he asked, voice low and rough like gravel wrapped in honey, “what can you do?”
My throat tightened. “Right now?”
He nodded once and stepped back, giving me a clear path to the kitchen.
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t expected an impromptu test, but I wasn’t about to back down. Not when something about him made my wolf straighten its spine and pay attention.
Not when I could feel the weight of his dominance pressing in on me, not threatening, but… magnetic.
I dropped my backpack to the side, washed my hands at the sink, trying to ignore how his presence filled the space even when he wasn’t speaking.
