Chapter 4
Chapter Four
brISTOL
Rays of sunlight creep through my windows, dancing yellow and orange across my bedroom. I wake up alone right before my alarm is due to go off, per usual, my inner clock keeping me on a routine, even though it’s Saturday. At least today is different, and I’ve been looking forward to it all week.
A sister shelter two towns over from us had a mom and her puppies brought up from Oregon for relocation since their shelters are overrun, and they called in some help to get them all checked out.
I was happy to donate my time. The Amberwood animal shelter is in a small town that relies on veterinarians to come in from other shelters and clinics to help out when they need it.
It’s so incredibly difficult to secure steady monetary donations for shelters, especially ones in small towns.
Bloomfield Animal Haven was in a similar situation, and if it hadn’t been for the donations we’ve been given, there’s no way we would have been able to hire the staff we have or supply the care we do.
I know how lucky we are, and it’s not something I take for granted.
So, donating my time to shelters that are less fortunate than ours is a job I’m more than happy to do.
If I didn’t need the income, I would work for free and put that money right back into helping these animals.
As is, what I do take is meager at best. Blake and I keep our finances separate, and he’s very gracious with footing the bill for most things.
Including the overly lavish house he purchased.
Slipping out of the empty bed, I move through my morning routine, turning on my playlist while I get ready for the day.
I take my time showering, shaving my legs because it makes me feel good, and letting the hot water warm up my body.
I love hot showers and could stand underneath the spray as the water beats down on me for hours if I had the time.
It’s the one place where you’re completely uninterrupted.
No phones to pull you in another direction, no conversations to be had, no expectations.
Just you, the hot water, and relaxation.
Knowing I want to stop by a bakery I haven’t visited in a while on my way into the shelter, I reluctantly leave the refuge of the shower and get out, drying off and slipping into a pair of matching navy-blue scrubs.
I study myself in the mirror, running my fingers gently over my cheeks as I glide moisturizer on.
My hair falls in a perfectly straight sheet, smooth and fine, like it was ironed flat by nature itself.
It doesn’t hold a single curl or wave; no matter how long I battle with a curling wand, it just slides back into its pin-straight form, the stubborn wench.
It parts neatly down the middle, running long past my shoulders and to my chest.
My round, apple-shaped face makes me look younger than my nearly thirty years, with high cheekbones, plush lips, and a smaller chin.
Together, my straight hair and the roundness of my face create this contrast that I’ve come to love about myself.
Sleek and simple meets soft and open. It’s me through and through.
I love my physical attributes, and I’ve always felt confident in my own skin.
After getting ready, I grab the keys to my car and head out.
With no idea where Blake is, or if he even came home last night, there’s no one to say goodbye to as I start my day.
The feeling is a little somber, but it’s one I’ve become used to.
He works long after I’ve gone to sleep and is out the door before I wake up to start my day.
The drive to Amberwood takes roughly thirty minutes because of all the streetlights in Bloomfield and the next town over.
Then it’s nothing but backroads all the way to Amberwood.
It’s a quaint little town hidden closer to the Pacific coast, surrounded by mountains and massive trees.
Today I am being graced with clear, beautiful skies.
Like the world itself is happy with where I’m heading, and it came out to show off.
The Amberwood animal shelter has a small location downtown, right next to the cutest bakery that has the most mouthwatering banana muffins I’ve ever had in my life.
The scent of warm bread and caramelized sugar fills my senses before I even reach the door, slightly weathered from seasons of sunshine and snow.
A simple painted golden sun rising over a loaf of bread, with the words Daily Rise Bakery etched in looping script, greets me as I reach for the cool gold handle of the door, my mouth already watering in anticipation.
Inside, the floors are a honey hardwood that creaks ever so softly with every step.
A long glass display case stretches across the far wall, glowing under the morning light that pours through the large windows.
Trays of butter croissants, scones flecked with rosemary, cinnamon rolls oozing with melted icing, and there, waiting for me like a beacon shining out at sea, what I came here for—large, fluffy, mouthwatering banana muffins.
No nuts. No chocolate. Just bananas and whatever other crack they put in it to make them so addictive.
“Good morning! Can I get you anything?” a sweet elderly woman greets me as I look up from the display case.
I’m sure I look like a fool, my smile bright and excited like a child in a candy store.
I don’t know why I don’t just drive to Amberwood when I get a craving for these, but it’s a rarity that I have time.
“Good morning. I would love a Morning Fog Latte and a banana muffin, to go, please.”
“You got it!” she chirps as she turns around to get to work on my order.
“You really should try the Sunrise Brioche to go with your latte,” a soft, masculine voice says from behind me, sending a thrill of goosebumps over my skin.
That’s new. I quickly glance into the display case, scanning for the suggested item.
Golden brioche buns shaped like a rising sun, with delicate rays scored into the edges, rest in a row.
They’re beautiful, almost too beautiful to eat.
Turning to meet the owner of the voice, I come face-to-face with a large chest instead.
Slowly lifting my head, the entire room freezes around me as the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life stands in front of me.
He’s absolutely massive, at least six-four, maybe even six-five.
I’m not considered short, and I have to crane my neck to see his face.
Dark auburn hair is slicked back out of his face, piercing emerald green eyes looking down at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before. It should make me cower, look away, or run. But I’m entranced, locked in place like I’ve lost control over my own body.
He has a full beard that covers his jaw, and combined with his size and muscles, it’s giving him a look that is all Viking or Wildling. He looks like he belongs on the set of Game of Thrones or Vikings rather than a tiny hole-in-the-wall bakery in middle-of-nowhere, Washington State.
I swear all the air is sucked from the room as our eyes lock, the earth quaking below my feet, everything moving around us at warp speed, but the two of us are frozen in time like one of those slow-mo time lapses in romantic movies.
I don’t know what’s happening, but my heart gallops behind my ribcage, banging hard and relentlessly against my chest, as his gorgeous green eyes look down at me like he’s never seen someone so painfully beautiful, like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
The emotion in his eyes swirls like he’s finally found what he’s been looking for.
I have the strongest urge to whine or whimper, and I have to actively fight the pull to step into his space and be surrounded by his warmth.
I’ve never experienced anything like it. His lips part slightly, plush, pale pink, and barely visible behind the coarse hair of his mustache and beard, like he’s just as affected as I am. My hands itch to reach up and feel the hair between my fingers.
“Miss? Your order.” A faraway voice hits my ears, dumping a metaphorical bucket of ice water over my head and pulling me from this bizarre moment. I shake my head as if to get some sense back in there, hoping like hell my control slips back into place.
“Maybe next time I’ll try them,” I tell the handsome stranger, my words coming out as a breathy whisper. “I-I have to go—” I fidget from foot to foot, pointing ridiculously behind him. “—next door, to the animal shelter.”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, hiding a slowly rising smirk as he gently nods.
“Have a good day.” His voice caresses me intimately, smooth like chocolate, and makes my knees weak. I’ve never responded to a voice like that before. Jesus Christ, I could listen to that sound all day.
“You, too,” I reply quickly as I turn away from him.
With trembling hands, I pay for my order, taking it and stepping around the mountain of a man with my eyes averted.
I swear I’m having heart palpitations. How is he so gorgeous?
I’ve truly never seen such a beautiful man before.
And his voice? A contradiction if I’ve ever heard one.
Low and velvety like honey, there’s a warmth in it, the kind that seeps into you slowly, softening every edge it touches.
He’s buttery warmth wrapped in a rugged exterior.
Even though he only spoke a few words, they were enough to rattle me.
A quiet sweetness that doesn’t belong to a man built like a storm. I could easily get lost in that.
Shaking my head free of him, I open the door to Daily Rise and step out into the cooling autumn air.
The animal shelter is next door, so I take a quick moment to steady my breathing from that frazzling encounter and hurry inside, not wanting to be caught on the sidewalk to have another forced run-in with him.