Chapter 2
PATRICK
The kitchen smelled like brown butter and vanilla, which should have been comforting since those were my favorite scents in the world. But instead of relaxing into the familiar rhythm of baking, I was stressed out of my mind.
Two thousand cookies.
I said yes to the corporate order without really thinking it through because the money was too good to pass up. My little bakery had been doing well, but that kind of contract could set me up for more corporate clients…if I didn't fuck it up.
The problem was I still had to run my bakery and keep up with all my daily orders while somehow cranking out two thousand brown butter honey cookies by Friday.
I wiped flour off my hands and checked my phone for the third time that morning. Still no text from Allen.
Not that I expected one. We hadn't exchanged numbers. Hell, we didn’t even give last names. It was just a hookup in a bar bathroom, the kind of thing that happened and you moved on from.
Except I couldn't stop thinking about him and those big eyes looking back at me as I pumped into him. He was so shy and sweet and fucking adorable. And the way he responded to every touch and word as if he was desperate for affection made me wish I’d asked for his number.
Or that he’d asked around to find mine.
I shook the thoughts from my head and focused on the ingredients in front of me. Brown butter, honey, flour, eggs. Simple ingredients that came together to make something special. Kinda like… No, I needed to stop with that line of thinking.
I never got hung up on guys I barely knew. Especially not guys I'd met in a bar and fucked in a bathroom stall. I was a one-and-done through and through. It was just easier that way.
My bakery was my priority and left me no time for relationships.
Besides, with the pumping two to three times a day to keep up with online orders, it was hard to make time for much else.
I thought selling milk would be an easy side hustle, but coordinating pickups and deliveries took more time than I expected since I joined the Milkman app.
But there was something about Allen that made me want to break my rules and reevaluate my whole life plan. The vulnerability in his gaze mixed with the heat of his touch did things to me. Things I couldn’t remember feeling with anyone else.
When he asked me to go harder, I gave him what he needed until he melted into my arms like he just wanted to be held.
And fuck, did it feel good to hold him.
"Patrick!" Mia, my assistant baker, called from the back. "Delivery at the door!"
“If it’s from the honey place, go ahead and sign for it.”
Perfect timing. I’d just used the last three cups for the current batch and needed at least another gallon to get through the order.
To be safe, I’d ordered three gallons of artisanal honey from a local farmer, so I’d have enough for the whole month.
It was expensive as hell but worth every penny, according to everyone who’d tried it.
Mia passed by me, and I did a double take at the cart she was wheeling.
She had three crates. Not three bottles. Three full crates that appeared to hold a dozen jars of honey each.
"What the hell?" I pulled out my phone and checked my bank account to see what I’d ordered.
If I'd been charged for twelve times the number I ordered, I was gonna have a serious cash flow problem.
The corporate order would be a nice cushion once it came in but not well enough to cover an unexpected expense like that.
Fortunately, the charge was exactly what I expected for three bottles. That meant the mistake was with the farmer and not with me.
That was a relief.
I grabbed one of the jars and turned it over in my hands. The label was handwritten in slightly wobbly letters. Wildflower Honey, Small Batch. Dated…yesterday.
Damn, they were efficient.
There was a phone number on my invoice, so I sighed from annoyance and dialed it, leaning against the doorframe while I waited for someone to pick up.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end was breathless like the person had just run to grab the phone. There was a clattering and some background noise. “Sorry. Hold on. Okay, I’m here.”
"Oh, hey.” I looked for the order number in case he asked for it. “I just got a delivery from your farm, and I think there’s been a mistake." I glanced at the crates again and rolled my eyes. "I ordered three bottles, but I've got three full crates here."
There was a sharp intake of breath. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Are you the bakery on Fifth Street?"
"Yup, that's me." Technically, we faced Murray Street, but the mailing address was Fifth.
"I’m so sorry. I must have mixed up the shipping labels.
The crates were supposed to go to be shipped, and you were supposed to get the bottles.
" He sounded genuinely distressed as his voice rose higher with each word.
"I can't believe I did that. I triple-check everything, I always triple-check, but I was distracted and. .."
Something about that voice tickled at the back of my mind. The cadence, the slight breathlessness. An instinct to make things better kicked in.
"Hey, now, it's okay." I tried to sound reassuring even though my brain was doing weird things. "Mistakes happen. No harm done."
He scoffed. "Well, some harm done to the manufacturer in Nebraska waiting for those crates. I need to get them to FedEx as soon as possible. Can I come pick them up?” He rustled around with something and then inhaled into the phone.
“I can be there in like twenty minutes. Again, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. "
"Yeah, sure. That works. I'll be here all day."
"Thanks. I'll see you soon."
The line went dead, and I stared at my phone for a long moment.
That voice sounded so familiar.
Okay, now I was being ridiculous. Just because I couldn't stop thinking about Allen didn't mean the random stranger on the phone was him.
I grabbed one of the bottles from the crate and headed back to my work station. The honey was a deep amber that caught the light when I held it up. I twisted off the lid and dipped a clean spoon in to taste it.
Sweet. Floral. Complex. Exactly what I needed for the perfect cookies.
Already running slightly behind, I got back to work. Baking was second nature to me and usually helped clear my head, but today it just gave my mind more room to wander.
And it headed straight toward Allen.
Fuck, I wanted to see him again.
A little daydream quickly turned into a full-blown fantasy of me going back to the bar and seeing him again.
This time, I’d ask him out for a proper date.
We’d have dinner and talk about our interests.
Without the urgency of wanting to feel his hot channel around my dick, I’d have the freedom to get to know him.
Not only that, but I wanted to know what made him smile. No detail would be too small. Everything from his line of work to how he liked to spend his weekends to whether he preferred coffee or tea in the morning.
Most of all, I wanted to know if he'd let me take care of him.
Because that was the thing I wanted most. And the feeling that Allen wanted someone to look after him was more than just a hunch.
I caught him looking at me in a way that made me wonder if maybe he was picturing me doing things for him.
Not because he couldn't do them himself, but because he deserved to have someone who wanted to take care of him.
My Daddy radar had been screaming at me from the moment he looked up at me with those big eyes. And when he melted into me like he needed the comfort as much as the release, every protective impulse I had went into overdrive.
Still, I let him walk away.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear Mia come back until she cleared her throat. "You okay, boss? You've been staring at that bowl for like five minutes."
I looked down and noticed the butter had cooled and the honey was perfectly incorporated, but I didn't remember doing it. So much for being focused. "Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking."
She raised an eyebrow which was just as accusational as any words. "About whoever put that hickey on your neck?"
My hand flew to my neck, and I gasped. I'd forgotten about that.
Mia laughed and waved off my embarrassment. "Hey, I'm not judging. Just saying, whoever gave you that must be pretty special if you're this distracted."
She wasn't wrong.
I got back to work and actually focused on the cookies. Mix, scoop, shape, bake. I could do it in my sleep.