Chapter Seven
Mindy
“That’s it. Tomorrow I’m closed!” I shout to no one as a newly put in smoke alarm rings loudly, the plume of black smoke curling beneath it like it’s trying to tickle it.
The cookies I just attempted to bake were now black circles of charcoal.
It’s been three hours, and all I’ve baked is a few batches of perfect cookies and several science experiments gone wrong.
My head just isn’t in it. Ever since Moseley came to talk to me about that money, my little baking heart has been crushed.
“Cheesus, this is fudging impossible,” I swear, crumpling to the floor in a heap of defeat. There’s no way I can get enough baked goods done before tomorrow, at least not enough to make any kind of profit.
Tears prick my eyes as I bury my head in my knees, my body exhausted, my bank account looking slim. I barely had enough to buy more supplies after Moseley was done with me, and now, my gumption and drive are weakened.
A loud knock bangs on my front entrance, startling me, forcing out some tears already starting to fall. I’m covered in flour, my apron’s a mess, and it’s almost ten o’clock at night… who the hell is at my door?
The knock gets even louder the second time, so I reluctantly drag myself to my feet, pausing when I see two familiar faces standing at the door, arms full of a few boxes with grocery bags hanging from their hands.
My footsteps echo too loudly off the walls. I bet a mouse couldn’t scurry through here without sounding like its steps are made of thunder.
“I—I’m closed,” I stutter, cracking the door open enough to talk to them.
A pretty blonde steps between them. She’s smiling, but there’s a look of determination in her eyes. It’s a bit alarming, especially when she pushes her way in, carrying what looks like eggs and flour.
“Hi, I’m Amber. You must be Mindy.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to answer.
“You’re probably wondering why we’re here.
Consider us your baking posse. Apparently, this idiot has never worked with baked goods before,” she says, motioning to Krampus, who can barely meet my eyes.
“He doesn’t realize how much time and effort goes into baking goods for the next morning…
that’s why we’re here. He’s going to learn tonight just how hard it is to be a baker. ”
“Um? I’m confused.”
Gremlin gives me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “She’s putting us to work, sweetheart. Just tell us what you want us to do, and we’ll do it. I wouldn’t argue with her, though. She’s just as mean as he is,” he states, hooking a thumb at Krampus.
The girl marches straight to the kitchen and throws on an apron.
“I worked at an Italian bakery for four years. My strengths are savory doughs and cannoli, but I can pretty much bake anything now. I was taught by the best and haven’t baked in forever.
Please let me help you. Krampus tells me that you’re working alone, and I know how hard that can be. ”
Instant relief washes over me, the tension in my shoulders easing.
“I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull this off.
” Turning slowly, I face the masked man of my dreams. “As much as I love you buying out my store, I never thought about how it would affect the next day, or how many hours I would have to put in remaking everything.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry. Had I known—”
“Oh goodness, this isn’t your fault at all. You were just trying to be nice to the new girl in town. And I was so appreciative of it, I just didn’t expect Mr. Moseley to come marching in demanding a percentage of it.”
Everyone’s smiles fade.
“He did what!” Krampus growls, hands clenching into fists. His body’s practically shaking.
“I guess in my contract it states he gets a percentage of what I sell each day.”
“Did you ask to see the contract?” Amber questions.
Shaking my head, I hand her a bowl and spoon, grateful for the reinforcements. “He showed it to me, but I could barely read it; the font was so small. Honestly, now that I think about it, that may be why he’s never given me my own copy.”
“That sounds illegal,” Gremlin exclaims, looking lost in the kitchen.
“Maybe. I’m kinda of new to the business world. I used to bake solely online and out of a food truck, but now I’m finally living my dream of owning a storefront bakery. It’s kinda overwhelming.”
“Just be careful, Mindy. Moseley isn’t who he says he is. He’s a very dangerous man, one you need to be careful dealing with,” Amber states, looking from me to Krampus.
Krampus nods, those deep blue eyes doing that thing where they make me feel things I shouldn’t. His concern doesn’t go unnoticed; actually, it makes me feel even more vulnerable.
“What am I missing?”
They share another look, one that isn’t exactly easy to read.
“Let’s just say, Mr. Moseley isn’t the nicest of guys. He hangs with some pretty shady people.”
“Oh, I know. I met one when I first moved here. He kept saying I was a lot older than expected… whatever that means.”
“Fuck!” Krampus growls under his breath, eyes widening when he realizes he swore. “Sorry,” he whispers, that hardened gaze softening just for me, making my heart melt like a golden brick of butter.
“It’s okay. Does that mean something too?”
Krampus leans against the counter and sighs.
“We aren’t exactly sure what Moseley is involved in, to be honest. He’s been a thorn in our side since we formed our club.
He’s got ties with the Raging Misfits MC, a rival club that’s recently gone underground.
As far as we know, they cut ties with him, but he still has other people he’s involved with that aren’t the greatest. What they do or what they’re capable of, we aren’t quite sure.
” He sighs before adding, “That’s why I came in today and the first time we bumped into each other.
I was doing recon for our club, trying to see if you were attached to Mosely, or just another poor victim of his shady business practices. ”
Frowning, I lean against the counter, watching as Amber carefully scrapes my burnt cookies into a trashcan nearby. “I’m only attached to him through contract, nothing else.”
He nods. “Yes, we can see that now. It’s very important that you get that contract as soon as possible, Mindy. There’s no telling what you signed. Did you read it?”
Shaking my head, my frown falls even further. “I read up to a point, but I got so excited about the screaming deal I was getting that I didn’t go any further.”
“And you said he refused to give you a copy?”
Dejectedly, I shake my head even more vigorously, staring at my feet. “He was supposed to give me it, but hasn’t.”
“First things first. You get yourself a copy of that contract,” he orders, but it doesn’t really bother me. It actually sorta turns me on.
“Yes, definitely.”
Krampus looks around the room. “I’m gonna have a friend of mine look over that contract for you.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
He nods. “Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past Moseley to have something even worse than a percentage in there.”
He must notice the nervous nibble of my lip, because he gently tugs it free from my teeth, forcing me to look up at him. The second our eyes meet, my heart stutters inside my chest, running miles I can’t quite keep up with.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he asks cautiously.
I don’t shy away from his touch. I don’t even look away.
I just stare into those deep blue eyes, getting lost in the protectiveness I see within them.
“He just does things sometimes that make me question his motives. There was this instance right before I opened where a pie caught on fire and he suddenly appeared, even though no smoke alarm went off. He said he heard the smoke alarm.”
Krampus’ eyes look up to where my finger’s pointing at the ceiling.
“That one’s new. I practically had to beg him to install it. But yeah, somehow, he knew I burned the pie, like he was watching me or something.”
“Sounds fishy,” Gremlin pipes in. “We knew that guy was fucking dirty as hell.”
He flinches just in time to miss Krampus’ hand flying at his face.
“You know, I’m still getting used to this no swearing thing. Can’t you give a guy a break?”
Krampus shakes his head. “No. Now get back to work.”
“And what exactly do you expect me to do, Krampy? I’m not exactly a baker. I couldn’t tell you the difference between flour or sugar without sniffing it. And before you ask, no, I don’t have a coke problem.” He grins, obviously a little too proud of his joke.
“You can wash dishes then,” Amber says, breaking up the conversation.
“Dishes? Woman, you do realize that I’ve never touched a dish in my life, right? That’s what mothers, girlfriends, and Little Annies are for.”
“Little Annies?”
Amber moves past me, rolling her eyes. “That’s what they call their club whores. It’s based on a horror movie called Misery. Ever watch it?”
I nod. “Yeah, I love a good horror movie.”
“Really?” Krampus asks in surprise. “But you hate swearing.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like a good slasher film. My favorites are the ‘B’ horror movies, though. You know, those horribly put together movies with cheesy special effects and extremely bad acting that you usually found in the eighties or nineties.”
Krampus looks up at me in surprise. “Those are my favorite too.”
Grinning, I hip check him. A little dash of flirting I picked up over the years. “Looks like you and I have some things in common, Krampus.”
He smiles. “Please call me Rich.”
“Rich?”
“It’s his real name, sweetheart. You should feel honored. He only lets Amber and his two best friends call him by his real name,” Gremlin says, giving me a wink. “Must mean he likes ya.”
“Shut up, Gremlin. Get in that dish pit and start washing some dishes.”
“How?” Gremlin questions, looking at the bin of silver dishware with unease. “There’s like a million of them.”
“Hot water and soap. You scrub them until there’s no food on them and the silver is shiny again,” Krampus grumps.
“This sounds like a lot of work I didn’t sign up for.”
“Just fucking do it, Prospect. That’s an order.”
The instant he swears, his shoulders rise up in frustration. “Sorry, Mindy.”
He freezes when my hand laces in his, and I give it a friendly squeeze. “It’s okay, Rich. I’m not that bothered by it. I know you have a life not quite like mine.”
Amber eyes us curiously from across the room, a knowing twinkle sparkles in her eye. She can see it just like I can; there’s something going on between me and Krampus. I just don’t think he gets it yet.
He quickly drops my hand and moves toward an open bowl. “Um, what are we gonna make first?” He looks nervous, maybe even a little shy. But I like that in a man. Especially when they have no idea how handsome they truly are.
“Let’s start off with cookies and work our way up. Amber, any way you can make a few of your famous cannoli?”
She nods. “Already on it, Mindy.”
“Great! I can’t thank you guys enough for helping me. I really need to hire someone else to work with me here, but I spent all my money on fixing this place up and haven’t had the funds to hire anyone on as a second baker yet.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Mindy. I plan on coming in every day to help you until you get on your feet,” Amber exclaims, like she didn’t just offer me the sun.
“Seriously? You really don’t have to do that, Amber.”
“Oh yes, I do. You can’t run this business on your own, Mindy. You’re going to need help, and that’s one thing I’m really good at.”
Tears prick my eyes again, but this time they’re filled with happiness. “I don’t know what to say. Before you guys got here, I was on the floor crying because I had no idea how I was going to open up tomorrow. And now…”
Gremlin glances over his shoulder, grinning stupidly at Krampus. “And now you got a grumpy bodyguard who’d do anything for you, princess. Even make cookies.”
My gaze wanders over to the grumpy biker, who’s now reading over my secret cookie recipe carefully, adding all the ingredients into a bowl.
He must feel me looking at him because he casually glances over his shoulder, holds my lusty gaze for a few seconds, then goes straight back to stirring, looking even more nervous now than he did five minutes ago
Yeah, if I wasn’t attracted to him before, it’s even worse now. Because nothing’s hotter than a man standing over a mixing bowl, muscles flexed as he manhandles a spoon like he’s professionally done it for years. Stirring up not only ingredients but also emotions I thought I’d never feel again.