Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Not that anyone would dare try to get close to him. He was big enough to intimidate even the scariest gangster wannabe. Like he had the other day. She didn’t even know why he’d interfered. Heck, she didn’t even know his name. And she was just the lady with the sticky buns.
Okay, even she heard how bad that sounded.
Whenever he was around, she instantly felt safer, though. Once, when a customer had gotten irate because Anita had given them the wrong change and he’d calmed him down with just a look. And another time when she’d been carrying a heavy box out to a customer’s car, he’d taken it from her and carried it out.
Sometimes she wondered if he’d had something to do with the fixed streetlights as well as the cracks in the sidewalks and roads.
But that was just silly.
“Don’t call him that, Anita,” she scolded.
“Why not? He is big. Anyway, you better get out there and serve him.”
“What? You mean you just left him out there? Damn it, Anita. You’re here to serve customers.”
Anita scowled. “I’m trying to do you a favor. He’s only got eyes for you.”
“That’s not true.” She tucked her white-blonde hair behind her ears as she hastily made her way out to the front.
Please don’t let me have flour all over my hair or face.
That happened way too often when Anita had something else to do and she had to duck out the front to serve.
If she wasn’t family, she’d have fired her a long time ago. Never hire family. Another of Grandpa’s lessons. One she hadn’t taken heed of.
Pasting a smile on her face, she headed out to serve the big beast . . . no, she couldn’t think of him like that. She might not know his name, but she did know he wasn’t a beast.
She didn’t know why he came here for his sticky bun fix. He didn’t look like he lived in this area.
Anita had speculated a lot about him, her favorite theory was that he was some wealthy underground fighter or criminal kingpin.
That girl sure did have a healthy imagination. If only she’d apply herself so diligently to her work, then Gracen’s life would be much easier.
She took a brief moment to study him, from his broad shoulders to his beefy biceps. All of him was thick and muscular. But it was his face that called to her. He had dark hair and deeply-tanned skin with a short beard. Maybe he couldn’t be called classically beautiful, but there was something so mesmerizing about him.
When he walked into a room, everyone’s gaze went to him immediately. She’d seen it before when he’d come into the bakery. Everyone would pause and stare. No one dared come close to touching him. He gave the impression he could break a body in half with one hand.
And yet . . . when she looked into his hazel eyes, she got the impression he was kind of sad.
But that was just stupid.
She smiled at him brightly in an attempt to hide her thoughts and how flustered she was by his good looks. “Good morning. Are you here for my sticky buns?”
Oh, Lord.
Did she just say that? She didn’t, did she?
Please don’t let me have said that.
To her shock, she thought the corners of his lips twitched. But she was certain she’d been mistaken when she looked again, and he appeared as serious as ever.
He simply nodded.
“How many today?” she asked, trying to sound professional. She heard Anita snort with laughter from the back room.
Great. She’d hear about that for the rest of the day. Probably the week. With a sigh, she gave the big guy a tired smile. She didn’t even know his name. She knew the names of all her other regulars. And all their family members too.
Not him. He came in for a sticky bun, left a big tip in the jar they kept on the counter, and left.
Anita usually snuck off with most of the tip money, but Gracen had learned early on that it was just easier to let some things slide with her niece.
“Two, please.”
She nodded. “To go?”
“For here. And coffee, black.”
That was surprising. He didn’t usually stay. She nodded with a smile, grateful he wasn’t going to bring up her embarrassing gaff.
“I’ll bring it over.”
He paid then moved to a seat at the back of the small bakery. She’d taken over the shop next door when they’d gone out of business and put a wide doorway in so people could sit and eat and have a cup of coffee.
All of her savings had been sunk into the renovation that the landlord had thankfully agreed to.
Picking up a plate with the sticky buns and his coffee, she moved toward him after making sure Anita was back out serving.
He’d chosen a seat with his back to the wall, so he could look out at everyone coming and going. She got the feeling that it wasn’t an accidental choice, that he did everything with purpose. Did he feel like he had to guard his back constantly?