Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Are you kidding? I listen to them all day long while I’m working. I’m obsessed with Connor Crais’s voice. I know he’s a happily married man, or so I’ve heard, but I totally have a crush on his voice skills.”
I snort at that. “Hey, we all have our crushes. If you’re a reader, you should join the book club. Right now, we’re reading Play Along by Liz Tomforde.”
“Oh, that’s awesome! I just finished that one last week. Samantha Brentmoor’s voice is just so smooth and sexy. And Jacob Morgan? Yeah, I’m down for this book club. I’ll swing by the bookstore after I leave here.”
“This is so exciting.” I do a little shimmy in my seat. “You’ll love it. I should listen to books while I bake early in the morning.”
“You really should. It makes the time go fast. Okay, what else do you need?”
“Right. Back to work.” I laugh. “I’d actually like to hire a second baker. As of right now, I’m the only one prepping the night before and then coming in super early to bake all of the pastries and breads. I used to be able to handle it, but I didn’t really have a life outside of this place before, so it didn’t bother me. Plus, we’re getting busier, and it’s higher volume. I just can’t do it alone.”
Cassie’s nodding slowly, her eyes narrowed as she thinks.
“I can’t take on any more than what I currently have, but I have a good friend who just moved to Silver Springs and is a pastry chef. His name is Noah, and he’s really good. I don’t think he’s working anywhere else yet.”
“But does he want early hours?”
“I think that’s the nature of the beast when it comes to being a pastry chef.”
I nod in agreement. “And what about gluten-free recipes? Do you think he’d be cool with that?”
“Only one way to find out.” Cassie pulls her phone out of her purse, taps the screen, and then puts it on speaker and sets it on the table between us.
“Hey, pretty girl,” a deep male voice says.
“Hey, I have you on speakerphone. I’m chatting with my new friend Juliet, who happens to own Sage & Citrus in Bitterroot Valley.”
“I’ve been in there,” he says. “It’s fucking good. Hey, Juliet.”
“Hi, you can call me Jules. I hear you’re a pastry chef.”
“Aw, Cass is singing my praises again? How sweet.”
I laugh and see that Cassie’s blushing. “How do you feel about baking gluten-free? And are you looking for a job?”
“I might be looking for a job if it’s the right fit. Gluten-free is just another challenge. As long as it’s not sugar-free, I can work with that.”
“I have no issue with sugar,” I assure him. “But mine is a clean kitchen, making it safe for those struggling with celiac and gluten allergies. Would you be interested in popping by to chat?”
“You know what, I’m headed that way this afternoon, and would be happy to come in. Thanks for thinking of me, Cassie.”
“Sure, I hope it works out.”
“See you later, Jules.”
He hangs up, and I sit back, watching Cassie.
“Are you two …?”
She shakes her head. “No. Definitely not. I’ve been seeing someone else for a couple of years now. But I am warning you, Noah is hot. Like super attractive.”
I smirk at that. “Have you seen my husband?”
“Oh, I’m not suggesting that you’d be interested. Mostly, I’m warning you because of your staff. They may never get anything done. They’ll just stand around and watch Noah.”
Shaking with laughter, I shrug a shoulder. “I guess we’ll see if he even wants the job.”
I need to go on record and say that Cassie wasn’t wrong. Noah is damn attractive. He’s not as tall as Brooks, but he’s over six feet, with dark blond hair, a chiseled jawline covered in two days’ or so worth of scruff, and a killer smile.
All my girls have heart eyes as they watch us walk into the kitchen.
“I really like your place,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, showing off muscular biceps through his long-sleeved T-shirt, as he looks around. “What do you need help with, exactly?”
I spend the next twenty minutes explaining my vision. That I need help with the breads and pastries for each morning. That he’d be welcome to try new recipes, as long as everything stays gluten-free. He gives his ideas, and we brainstorm, bouncing ideas off each other. He’s easy to talk to, and he has some amazing creative thoughts.
He’s nodding, standing right next to me, when I hear, “Who the fuck are you?”
Noah and I turn around, and I find Brooks standing six feet away, glaring at us.
“Noah.” Noah reaches out to shake Brooks’s hand, but my husband doesn’t even look at it.
“Brooks, this is Noah, hopefully my new pastry chef, so I don’t have to come here in the middle of the night anymore. Don’t be a jerk and ruin this for me.”