Hired Hottie

“Have you ever considered volunteering anywhere? Like at a shelter or something?”

I shrug. “I haven’t really thought of that. Do you know of any nearby?”

Face lighting up, she nods. “I know the perfect place. It’s a few blocks away, but you could totally walk if you wanted to. It’s called Forever Grey. I used to go there sometimes before I met Rhett.”

“Forever Grey?”

“Yeah. It’s a dog sanctuary for retired racing greyhounds. But just because they aren’t fast enough to compete anymore doesn’t mean they don’t have a shit-ton of energy. They’re always looking for people to take the dogs out on walks or runs.”

“That would be perfect for me!” I gush, the wheels in my head turning.

“You’ll have to stop by. I’m pretty sure they take walk-ins. You’ll just have to fill out a couple of papers, and then I think you’ll be good to go.”

“Done.” I smack my hand against the counter for emphasis.

Indie laughs in return. “Perfect. I’m glad I could help. Now, I gotta get those white chocolate brioche buns in the oven ASAP. If you need anything, I’ll be in the back.” She disappears as the bell rings on the front door once more.

My mouth opens to greet the newcomer before I nearly swallow my tongue.

Sandy blonde hair. Check. Twinkling green eyes. Check. Rugged good looks. Check. My cheeks heat as I realize the word rugged just filtered through my mind. Thank goodness the guy isn’t a mind reader, or I’m pretty sure I’d die from embarrassment.

A curious smile tugs at my lips as I watch the new customer peruse his options behind the glass counter.

“Hi. Can I…uh…can I help you?” I ask, my voice cracking at the end.

Kill me now.

He grins. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I repeat, feeling like an idiot. “Can I help you?”

Resting his big hands against the top of the counter, the stranger looks at the variety of pastries and shrugs. “I’ve never been here before, but I saw a box with the logo on my buddy’s desk at work yesterday, and the name reeled me in.”

I chuckle. “Yeah. Get Baked has tamed many a munchies.”

Gifting me with a crooked grin, he says, “I bet.” His eyes drop down to my mouth for a split second before adding, “So, what would you recommend?”

“Umm….”

Is it hot in here?

“What are you looking for?” I ask.

His eyes connect with mine, making me squirm from the intensity as he murmurs, “I don’t really know what I’m looking for, but I think I might’ve just found it.”

Licking my lips, I break our connection and clear my throat. “Umm…the cronuts are a best seller. My boss’s husband is obsessed with them. And the eclairs are pretty good too, although I’m a sucker for the chocolate croissants. There are brioche buns! But the brioche buns aren’t quite done yet so….”

The words keep tumbling out of me like a faucet on full blast, and I don’t know how to make them stop.

“What’s a cronut?” he asks, though I’m not sure if it’s an attempt to get me to shut the hell up or if he’s genuinely curious.

Regardless, I reply, “It’s a mix between a croissant and a donut.”

“And the chocolate croissants are your favorite?”

“Well…I mean…the cronuts are really good too.”

Mouth stretching into a smile, the stranger leans a little closer as he whispers, “I’d like one of each, please.”