His Tasty Cherry Pie: A Double Virgin Valentine - Page 9

“Then we better get started,” I say with a grin. “Because you only have four hours left.”

She slaps my arm, but she’s laughing.

And just like that, I fall even deeper in love.

CHAPTER FOUR

Charlotte

* * *

My first day flies by and before I know it, we’re closing up the bakery. Lindsay is already gone, hopefully for the day, and it’s just Malcolm and I left.

I swallow hard when I hear the click of him locking the door. It’s just us. What an exhilarating, tempting, intriguing thought…

“So, what do we have to do?” I ask as I look around at the mess, which was mostly made by me.

“I’ll take care of it for you if you want to go home,” he says as he walks around the counter, looking as spotless as when he walked in this morning. I, on the other hand, look as if I’ve been pelted with jelly-filled baked goods all day by an angry mob. Now I understand the intense need for black pants.

“No, no,” I say as I pick up a dirty tray and put it… umm… over here. “I’ll help out.”

“You don’t have a hot date waiting for you?”

I whip my head around, looking at him in surprise. I may be imagining it, but he seems tight and uneasy as he waits for my answer. Could the thought of me on a date really be bothering this gorgeous guy? It can’t be…

But… maybe? It does look like he’s on edge as he waits for my answer. I take a few extra seconds to let him stew in his jealousy.

“No,” I say with a sad little shake of my head. “I have no one waiting for me. Except for Aunt Tracy and her blind cat.”

The tension in his shoulders and chest melt off him as he exhales the breath he’s been holding in.

“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“No,” I say as we start bringing dishes to the dishwashing station in the back. “Do you… have a girlfriend?”

He stops and looks me right in the eyes. “Ask me again in a week.”

My damn cheeks. They keep blushing.

I quickly turn away and change the subject. “How do you work this thing?” I ask as I open the door of the huge dishwasher.

“Just pile it up here,” he says as he drops his empty tray into the sink. “There’s a dishwasher coming in tomorrow. He’ll do it then.”

“Oh, cool.”

We bring the rest of the dishes in the back and pile them up.

“Cleaning is a lot easier when you don’t have to do any of it,” I say with a laugh as I balance the last tray on the teetering pile.

“Exactly,” he says with a wink. “But don’t get too excited. We have to clean the floors every night with all of the snow and mud being tracked in.”

I grab a broom and start sweeping the front as Malcolm heads over to the sound system. I keep him in my peripheral vision as I start to pick up the tiny rocks and crumbs. I’m always aware of him, I’ve noticed. All day, I’ve been keeping tabs on where he’s standing, what he’s doing, who he’s talking to. I can’t help it. I just can’t stop being cognizant of his every move.

He changes the station from the elevator music that’s been playing all day to the only good radio station this town has.

I smile and start nodding my head to the beat as he blasts it through the bakery—a peppy rock song that I’ve heard before, but I don’t know the name of.

“Let me get those chairs for you,” he says as he comes over, looking so hot in his white t-shirt. I just… God, it’s so hard to look away. He’s truly magnificent.

I force my eyes onto the floor as I continue sweeping, but when he starts yanking up chairs and flipping them over onto the tables, I can’t look away.

Those strong arms flex and clench with every movement. They’re thick wooden chairs, but he lifts them easily.

“You did good today,” he says as he smiles at me while hoisting up another chair.

I can’t help but smile back, even though I know that’s a total lie.

“I can’t believe I made a batch of danishes that were actually edible!”

It’s true. With Malcolm’s help, I was able to make a batch of twelve danishes that turned out pretty decent. We even sold eight of them.

I watched in awe and horror as the first guy who bought one sat down at the table with a coffee and newspaper and bit into it. I kept waiting for him to spit out the bite, explode out of his seat, and yell at us for how horrible it was, but he just kept on taking bites until he was finished. He didn’t even look like he wanted to gag once!

Tags: Olivia T. Turner Romance
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