Chapter 10 HENRY
It was almost time for the bakery to open.
I was filled with a sudden burst of anxiety, which often happened when I wasn’t sure how people were going to react to a marketing campaign.
This one wasn’t on a scale I’d played with before; it was small, intimate.
There was a lot more riding on it than just some numbers on a spreadsheet.
Leo had been there for me, and I’d been there for him.
It was nice to have someone who mellowed my anxieties with his playfulness, and I knew the stress would vanish as soon as the doors opened and the first customer came in.
Leo had been adamant about being first, and he already was, but he wanted to actually walk through the door before anyone else once I flipped that sign from closed to open.
And right beneath it, there was the poster he’d made in crayon, the date written in bubble letters with Grand Opening and a whole lot of different cakes, pies, and coffee cups decorating it.
The morning of the big day arrived, and Leo had been staying over more, and I really wanted him here with me—in my bed, in my kitchen, even sitting around in the bakery, testing the chairs out as he put it.
I hadn’t slept much. I’d worked through most of the night to put out a solid selection of baked goods, all of them positioned and slightly crammed askew inside the glass counter that wrapped around the entire curve.
I had freshly brewed coffee scenting the air and filling me with the buzz my body didn’t need.
Opening time was eight a.m. and Leo had left through the back exit. People had been walking by for about thirty minutes, some stopping to check the opening times on the door, and others lingering . . . that’s when Leo decided to leave, claiming nobody was going to be the first customer but him.
For the moments I was alone, I recounted all the things I was supposed to have put out, and realized I should’ve staggered some of my baking slightly.
If everything in the display wasn’t all snatched up and eaten before lunch, I’d have far too much food left in the kitchen, which I’d planned to bring out to restock during the day.
I didn’t know if I was doing all of this completely wrong.
It was my first time working in a bakery, let alone owning one and making all the decisions.
It turned eight o’clock, and I flipped the sign and opened the door.
Leo, as promised, was the first one in. “Whoa, it smells amazing in here,” he proclaimed as a small crowd of people followed him in. He completely passed me without any pause to be first at the counter, already getting his order ready.
As I stepped back behind the counter to serve, I was still watching people come in. They flocked to the glass counter, tapping on it and cooing like they were observing fish in an aquarium. They were deciding which cakes and bakes they wanted to try first.
“I’ll take one of your banana bread muffins and a mocha with plenty of whipped cream, sprinkles, of course, and any marshmallows you have,” Leo said. “Pweese,” he added, pressing against the counter and pouting.
The town mayor had shown up now, and it seemed everyone wanted a peek inside. I’d been in some hectic situations before, dealing with deadlines, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the rush of customers that was queuing.
Quickly, I managed to serve all the customers and deal with new ones as they came in. Seeing all the tables full, many grabbed a to-go coffee and something sweet—most went for a muffin, but some of them were devouring apple pie and cream at this early hour.
People flooded in and people left, almost like they’re pre-agreed they would come in stages. Leo stayed most of the morning, but before he left—and he told me he really didn’t want to leave—he gave me a big kiss, announcing to the town we were together.
The town was intoxicated by the announcement, everyone coming in and telling me they loved Leo and if he loved me, then they’d love this place as well. Of course, I hoped those opinions would cement once they’d tried the amazing food I had to offer . . . and I think they did.
I was swept off my feet all day, having to showcase a near empty counter since most people had come in and bought several things at a time.
I wondered whether I should’ve put a notice up saying they could only order a handful per person, but that type of marketing was reserved for collectables and less for consumables.
By the time the bakery closed at five p.m., everything I’d baked had been sold, and I’d had to turn away a number of people who hadn’t been able to come in during the early afternoon rush.
I was exhausted but relieved it had gone so well.
I locked the door just after closing time when two older women hadn’t wanted to leave, claiming they’d be back in the morning and wanted to reserve the spot in the back—the one below the air conditioning unit.
I finally got a moment to myself, a moment where I was alone and counting all my blessings. I was halfway through sweeping when a gentle tap sounded at the glass door. The white mesh curtain obscured them from vision, but I knew there could only be one person behind it.
And I was right.
Leo stood there with a big smile and a backpack weighing one shoulder down. “Everyone’s been singing your praises all over town,” he said. “Were you busy?”
“Sold out,” I told him.
He squealed. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, get in here,” I said. “Unless you’re just swinging by before going home.”
“I’ve been spending so much time here,” he said. “But if you want me to come in, I will.”
“Don’t be silly, of course I want you here. I like you being here,” I reassured him. “Although I think I might need that hand you were potentially offering earlier.”
He nodded. “Yep, what do you need me to do?”
“I need you to go into the kitchen and fix up a little snack,” I told him. “I’m gonna Swiffer through here, and then I need a snack.”
He giggled, trying to sway but almost falling with the weight of his bag pulling him down. “I shouldn’t do that. I’ve got books in here.”
“Perfect. A snack, some books, and then I’ll make dinner,” I said. “How does that sound? Unless you’ve already eaten, in which case, I’ll whip something up quick.”
“Maybe we should order pizza,” he said.
The instinct in me wanted to say we could make them, but I really wanted to be off my feet and eating as soon as possible. Better if I was cuddled up to Leo. “Let’s order pizza.”
“I’ll call,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Just cheese or—”
“Anything as long as there’s no pineapple.”
He stuck his tongue out. “Thank God! Yes, no pineapple. I’ll get pepperoni.”
“In that case, no need to make that snack.”
“I’ll just look like a snack instead,” he said, swishing his hips and turning around like he was on display. A true snack. I would’ve devoured him if I didn’t have to get this cleaning done before I could rest.
Once cleaning was done and pizza was ordered, Leo helped me prep for the morning in the kitchen.
I knew once I was off my feet, there was no way I was getting back up.
The labor-intensive, being-on-your-feet part of running a bakery hadn’t been something I’d anticipated.
I was used to an office job, and today my legs felt like they did that one time I ran the Chicago Marathon.
We spent the evening on the sofa, devouring the pizza and watching more episodes of Murder, She Wrote, with Leo guessing the culprit every single time.
It wasn’t that difficult, considering he’d seen most of them before, but it was fun to see him get animated, creating these elaborate plans and ideas.
Then dessert. We went down to the bakery kitchen and Leo pulled out the chocolate slabs from the fridge. “S’mores,” he said, raising the chocolate in the air. “I want them super melty this time.”
“As you wish, little one.” The marshmallows and graham crackers were here just for s’mores. I didn’t use them in any of my bakes, except for a graham-cracker-base cheesecake, which I was still perfecting the recipe of.
Cooking up a messy chocolate storm, neither of us wore aprons, and we lived to regret it, making big messes on both of our T-shirts.
We might’ve made more mess than what I’d cleaned up earlier, but all of it was on Leo’s face, and I would happily spend the rest of the evening cleaning it away with my tongue.
In fact, it was my preferred method of cleaning.
Pulling him in close, our lips mushed together for a moment until I held him in place and licked the chocolate away. It was a secondhand s’more.
“Feel like a baby animal being cleaned,” he said with a giggle. It wasn’t the worst way to put it. I was absolutely taking care of him like a baby animal, but without the mouthful of fur. This was much more ideal.
“This doesn’t get you out of taking a shower with me,” I told him.
“I can’t believe you think I’d ever want to get out of that.”
He’d been bringing things over every time he stayed. Some of them were rubber duckies and bathroom toys that suctioned to the walls . . . all very innocently. He had a lot of stuff at his place, and I doubt he even noticed how much of it was now filling up my place.
From the bedroom, I could hear Leo preparing the bathroom for a little playtime before bed.
I would’ve watched how he liked things set up, but in that moment, I’d lain back on the bed, my body not wanting to get up.
My legs practically refused to function, even to haul my ass up into a seated position.
“Where did you put my clothes?” he called out.
“I had some underwear and a T-shirt in a little bag in here.” He walked out of the bathroom in his crop top and a pair of tight briefs—the only thing my body responded to, springing upright.
“Got your attention.” He turned around and pulled the fabric of his briefs between his cheeks like a thong, shaking his booty. “Are you hypnotized?”
In this tired state, I could easily have been hypnotized by his ass, begging for a kiss. “Your clothes,” I said. “They’re in a drawer.” I’d made the decision without asking him. I didn’t want him keeping his things in tote bags just lying around. “The top one of the dresser.”
“You gave me a drawer?”
“I gave you a full drawer,” I said, my body dropping back onto the bed, slipping into the center.
Leo grabbed my hand. “You’re not going to sleep yet,” he said. “You still have to shower, remember?”
“Do I smell that bad?” I asked, lifting my head and nestling it into a pit. “Ooh, yeah, I’m not fresh at all.”
He jumped onto the bed and stuck his face into my pit. “Mhmm, musky,” he said. “My favorite Daddy scent.”
With a little energy, I pushed his nose into my pit. “Now it’s all on you too.”
“So I am your little animal. You lick me and now you’re rubbing your scent all over me,” he said. “I mean, I could go missing amongst all these boxes up here, and that would be a good way for you to find out where I’ve gone.”
“See, one step ahead,” I said, taking his arm and encouraging him on top of me. “I’m so tired, little one. You’re gonna have to pull me with all your strength to get up.”
“I can’t do that if I’m on you,” he giggled, clenching his thighs around my waist and bearing down. “But since I’m such a good boy, I’ll give it my best shot.”
Eventually, we took a shower together. He played with his toys as I sat under the showerhead, making sure his lower half was washed clean.
I didn’t know how long we’d spent under the water.
I was wrinkled by the time we got out, and after a minimal rub down with a towel, I dropped into bed.
I would usually have been instantly asleep, but we hadn’t read a bedtime story.
Even I was used to the habit now. I was part of our lives. And it was probably the most fiction I’d read in a while. It was nice, doing the voices, adding additional bits of story from the pictures we saw in the books. This lifestyle was freeing and defined my new comfort zone.
My new comfort zone with Leo. My little one.