Read Online So Much More (Made for Love #3) by R.C. Martin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R.C. Martin
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things?”
“Come on back,” I tell her, happy for the distraction. “I’ll give you a quick tour before we get started.”
After he shows me the lay of the land and I stow away my things, he brings me back to the kitchen. It smells amazing and I don’t hesitate to tell him as much.
“I’m glad you think so,” he says, pulling out a stool and signaling for me to sit. “Your first order of business will be to try everything that’s on the menu today.” My jaw drops open as he sets a plate full of pastries in front of me.
Best. First day. Ever.
“You don’t have to eat it all—”
“Oh, but can I?” I mutter, reaching for the first scone that I see.
He chuckles. “Eat as much as you’d like, just be sure to try everything. It’s important that my staff knows what everything tastes like so you can describe it to customers who have questions. I make the pastries on a weekly rotation, unless I get a special order.”
As soon as the buttery scone begins to melt on my tongue, a moan I can’t contain forces itself from my throat. “You made this? This morning?” I ask with a mouthful.
He nods at me with a smirk.
“Am I eating a butter pecan scone?”
He nods once more, his smirk turning into a smile.
Shit. I’m in so much trouble. How in the hell is my battered heart supposed to compete with that smile and this scone made by that sexy man who I keep imagining in nothing but his damn apron?
Too much smut. I’ve been reading too much smut!
Or maybe not enough…
“Remember, you have to try everything. I’ll be right back,” he tells me, leaving me with the plate of deliciousness.
By the time he returns, I’ve tried his lemon poppyseed scone, his apple-carrot-raisin loaf, his cinnamon swirl coffee cake, and I’m devouring his blueberry crumble muffin. I can’t even bring myself to be ashamed of my gluttony—with four more things left to try.
“That one’s a best seller,” he says with a wink as I polish it off.
If baked goods are my weakness, Brandon’s baked goods just may be the death of me. Especially if they come with a wink.
I look away from him, afraid I’ll start staring if I don’t. I reach for another pastry as I pull my phone out of my pocket, needing a better distraction just as much as I need to share the discovery of my new favorite muffin.
Me: OMG. If you think my baking is good, you haven’t LIVED until you’ve tried Brandon’s blueberry crumble muffin.
To my delight, and relief, she shoots back a text almost immediately.
Aria: Yum! Guess I know where I’m coming for lunch…
Me: Dear Lord—I just bit into a chocolate zucchini muffin. This job is going to make me SO fat.
Aria: Lol. Are you eating the whole pastry case or what?!?
Aria: Josh teaches a kickboxing class three nights a week! (MWF) Come with me!
Me: YES! Also—I really am eating the whole pastry case. Boss’s orders.
Aria: Clearly I’m in the wrong profession.
Aria: Anyway, gotta jet. Can’t be late for work. See you at lunch! Happy First Day!!!!
“If you finish that entire plate, I swear, I’m giving you a raise.”
I look up to find Brandon not two feet away, leaning against the work island where I sit, watching me. It isn’t until I look down at the plate that I realize I’ve now eaten two whole muffins and at least half of everything else.
If I were a blushing woman, my cheeks would be on fire. Lucky for me, I only blush when I’m intoxicated. Right now, I’m just drunk on sugar, which is so much better and much less embarrassing. Yet, when I think about it, I recognize that I’ve never been embarrassed about my ability to consume an obnoxious amount of baked deliciousness. When my eyes move from the plate to meet Brandon’s hazel irises, I remember that it’s him that’s making me anxious.
I clear my throat and try and think of something clever to say to dispel the awkward moment that’s filled with my silence. “Hi. My name is Sarah. I’m a sugarholic…I’m about
“Come on back,” I tell her, happy for the distraction. “I’ll give you a quick tour before we get started.”
After he shows me the lay of the land and I stow away my things, he brings me back to the kitchen. It smells amazing and I don’t hesitate to tell him as much.
“I’m glad you think so,” he says, pulling out a stool and signaling for me to sit. “Your first order of business will be to try everything that’s on the menu today.” My jaw drops open as he sets a plate full of pastries in front of me.
Best. First day. Ever.
“You don’t have to eat it all—”
“Oh, but can I?” I mutter, reaching for the first scone that I see.
He chuckles. “Eat as much as you’d like, just be sure to try everything. It’s important that my staff knows what everything tastes like so you can describe it to customers who have questions. I make the pastries on a weekly rotation, unless I get a special order.”
As soon as the buttery scone begins to melt on my tongue, a moan I can’t contain forces itself from my throat. “You made this? This morning?” I ask with a mouthful.
He nods at me with a smirk.
“Am I eating a butter pecan scone?”
He nods once more, his smirk turning into a smile.
Shit. I’m in so much trouble. How in the hell is my battered heart supposed to compete with that smile and this scone made by that sexy man who I keep imagining in nothing but his damn apron?
Too much smut. I’ve been reading too much smut!
Or maybe not enough…
“Remember, you have to try everything. I’ll be right back,” he tells me, leaving me with the plate of deliciousness.
By the time he returns, I’ve tried his lemon poppyseed scone, his apple-carrot-raisin loaf, his cinnamon swirl coffee cake, and I’m devouring his blueberry crumble muffin. I can’t even bring myself to be ashamed of my gluttony—with four more things left to try.
“That one’s a best seller,” he says with a wink as I polish it off.
If baked goods are my weakness, Brandon’s baked goods just may be the death of me. Especially if they come with a wink.
I look away from him, afraid I’ll start staring if I don’t. I reach for another pastry as I pull my phone out of my pocket, needing a better distraction just as much as I need to share the discovery of my new favorite muffin.
Me: OMG. If you think my baking is good, you haven’t LIVED until you’ve tried Brandon’s blueberry crumble muffin.
To my delight, and relief, she shoots back a text almost immediately.
Aria: Yum! Guess I know where I’m coming for lunch…
Me: Dear Lord—I just bit into a chocolate zucchini muffin. This job is going to make me SO fat.
Aria: Lol. Are you eating the whole pastry case or what?!?
Aria: Josh teaches a kickboxing class three nights a week! (MWF) Come with me!
Me: YES! Also—I really am eating the whole pastry case. Boss’s orders.
Aria: Clearly I’m in the wrong profession.
Aria: Anyway, gotta jet. Can’t be late for work. See you at lunch! Happy First Day!!!!
“If you finish that entire plate, I swear, I’m giving you a raise.”
I look up to find Brandon not two feet away, leaning against the work island where I sit, watching me. It isn’t until I look down at the plate that I realize I’ve now eaten two whole muffins and at least half of everything else.
If I were a blushing woman, my cheeks would be on fire. Lucky for me, I only blush when I’m intoxicated. Right now, I’m just drunk on sugar, which is so much better and much less embarrassing. Yet, when I think about it, I recognize that I’ve never been embarrassed about my ability to consume an obnoxious amount of baked deliciousness. When my eyes move from the plate to meet Brandon’s hazel irises, I remember that it’s him that’s making me anxious.
I clear my throat and try and think of something clever to say to dispel the awkward moment that’s filled with my silence. “Hi. My name is Sarah. I’m a sugarholic…I’m about
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