Chapter 15
Savannah
There was a line out the door this morning, and even though it’s almost lunchtime, it isn’t dissipating.
“That’s a perfect combination,” I hear Melissa say to the next customer while I whirl around her, restocking the cabinets, my cupcakes going fast. I have new batches made; I just haven’t had time to ice them yet.
“Have a great day!” she sing-songs and the register chimes. I’m overwhelmed, but in the best possible way.
“Hey, we’re almost out of dinner rolls and the cupcakes are a winner today,” Melissa whispers to me, clearly as excited as I am that we’re both run off our feet.
“I have some almost ready. I just need to sort out the cabinets,” I murmur to her, knowing I need to get busy in the kitchen, yet there’s a million different things I need to be doing out here. I spot the paper bags our products go in, the pile almost gone.
“Morning… Excuse me… Pardon me, ma’am…”
That voice. Low, gravelly, unmistakable.
I snap upright so fast I nearly drop the tray in my hands. And there he is, the man who slept beside me last night, pushing his way through the crowd like a storm rolling into a cupcake shop.
“Griffin!”
He takes in the chaos, the line, the scent of cinnamon and sugar, and his eyebrows lift. “Wow. This is… impressive.”
Pride blooms in my chest instantly and embarrassingly warm. “It’s great, but I need to ice more cupcakes, I have to sort these cabinets, I need to find more paper bags…” The words tumble out of me in one breath, my panic showing.
“I can ice,” he says, dead serious.
I blink. “You what?”
“I can ice. You taught me how last night.” He reaches past me, grabbing a spare apron off the hook. His body brushes mine, solid, warm, steady, and for a second, I swear my knees wobble. “Where are they?”
He’s already tying the apron around his waist. The apron is… Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
Blue gingham. Frills. Tiny. It looks like it was made for a Disney princess, not a six-foot-something lumberjack of a man.
“Aren’t you busy? Aren’t you heading to the distillery today?” I ignore the way my heart somersaults.
“Tanner can wait.” He says it like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t rearrange his entire day because I look overwhelmed.
There are maybe three people in this town who can tell Tanner Whiteman to wait. Griffin is one of them.
“In the back,” I finally answer.
“I’m on it.” He disappears into the kitchen, and I stand there for a beat too long, staring after him like a lovesick idiot.
Melissa snaps me back to reality. “Found those bags yet? Also, pies are running low…”
“Right! Yes. Bags. Pies.” But my eyes betray me, flicking toward the kitchen in time to see Griffin reappear, picking up a piping bag filled with pink frosting. Pink. Frosting. In those hands.
The dainty vanilla cupcakes look like toys in his grip. The apron is ridiculous. He doesn’t even notice. He’s too focused on helping me.
And something in my chest squeezes so tight it’s almost hard to breathe.
He shouldn’t look good like this. He shouldn’t look… so right in my space. He shouldn’t make me feel steadier just by being here.
But he does.
“Don’t forget the bags and the hot pies …” Melissa brings me back to the present, forcing me to peel my eyes from the brooding man with the dainty vanilla cakes looking comically small in his large hands.
“I’ll grab them now. More pies are ready too.
” I rush around, running out the back around the kitchen, to the front and all around the bakery.
I walk the line of customers, offering samples and tastings of the cinnamon buns while they wait, thanking everyone for coming to opening day.
I’m then behind the register, fumbling my way through as Melissa takes a break, the adrenaline surging through me as I see my stock dwindling down, my fresh breads and rolls already sold out.
“Here.” Griffin emerges again, carrying a full tray of perfectly iced cupcakes. Perfect. I don’t know how he did that with hands that could probably snap a rolling pin in half.
He slides the tray into the cabinet as the next rush hits.
“You need me to do anything else?” He scans the room for the next task.
Before I can answer, Sawyer and Sutton step up to the counter, both staring at Griffin like he’s sprouted wings.
“Oh, this has made my day,” Sawyer mutters.
“You ordering?” Griffin grumbles, crossing his arms, which only makes the frilly apron look even more absurd. And somehow… adorable.
“Depends.” Sutton smirks. “Do the cupcakes come with a side of midlife crisis?”
He snaps a photo, and Griffin’s jaw tics. I bite back a laugh, rolling my lips to tame the grin.
“Charge these assholes double, sweetness.” His hand brushes my lower back as he moves past me, and the touch is so gentle, so unexpected, my breath catches. His head lowers then, his lips brushing the hair near my ear.
“I’ll go clean up. Then I’ve got to run. I’ll be back later,” he murmurs for only me to hear. And I shouldn’t want that. I shouldn’t want him here, in my space, in my day, in my thoughts.
But I do.
More than I should.
All I can do is nod, not trusting myself to say another word to him, before he walks away.
“Two cupcakes?” I bring my attention back to the two men, who are still grinning as I try to get my head back on work.
While they look over their options, I look past them at the line and notice the customers in the store all looking at Sutton and whispering.
It dawns on me then that he’s more than Griffin’s friend and neighbor.
He’s a Hollywood movie star, and I freeze a little.
I’ve met him before, at the kids’ party, but that was just briefly, and I didn’t think too hard about it.
“Better make it a dozen. My kids will eat them all, and I need to save one for Annabelle; otherwise, she’ll bury my body in her vegetable garden…” Sawyer says, and I roll my lips again, loving the banter these guys have.
“A pretty dozen coming right up.” I get busy sorting the box of cupcakes and look up, noticing Sutton filming around the store.
“You don’t mind, do you? Thought I’d put it out on my socials. These cupcakes look awesome…”
“Ahh, um… no, that’s great!” Seriously. Am I in a dream right now? Sutton Silvers is in my bakery, filming my cupcakes for his social media. His following is into the millions. One post from him and my little bakery will be put on the map!
“I have these ones.” I point out a smaller batch off to the side that have yellow frosting and a small fondant bumble bee on them. Given he makes honey, he might appreciate those the most.
“Oh yeah. They’re awesome!” He grins, takes a photo, and orders a dozen yellow ones too.
I wrap the order quickly, offer them my thanks, and move on to the next customer and then the next.
But every time I glance at the kitchen door, I half expect Griffin to walk back through it.
Every time I catch a whiff of cedar and soap, my heart jumps.
Every time I see the hook where the frilly apron usually hangs, I smile like an idiot.
By the time we lock the door, I’m exhausted, aching, and nearly floating.
“We did it,” I breathe.
“You did it,” Melissa says. “This place is going to be huge.”
I rub my belly, feeling the baby shift. Feeling the weight of everything I’ve built. Everything I’m still trying to build.
And somewhere in the back of my mind is the image of Griffin in that ridiculous apron, icing cupcakes like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The grin to my face instant.
I did it. I opened my very own bakery. Just how I always wanted.
I rub my belly, knowing the next hurdle now awaits, so I push off the door and get straight into cleaning up. Because I can’t rest. Not yet. I still have the prep work to do for tomorrow, and by the looks of today, I’ll need a lot more bread.
“Want me to stay?”
I look at Melissa, knowing one of us has to rest before we do it all again tomorrow.
“No. Go head home. Thank you so much. I’ll see you back here in the morning?” I question, not blaming her if she doesn’t turn up again after how busy we were.
She grins as she grabs her things and walks toward me. “I’ll be back. See you then.”
I open the door for her and watch her walk down the street before I close it and lean against it. I take a big breath before a knock startles me, and I turn to see Griffin.
He came back, just like he said he would.