Coyote (Hawks MC Next Generation #1) - Lila Rose Page 0,48
end of the counter.
“You seem to be in a better mood, sugar lumps,” Julian commented.
Cocking my head to the side, I asked, “What makes you say that?”
“You went out the back frowning, but now you’re smiling. Did your man upset you before, but he’s made it better now?”
“Julian,” Zara clipped low.
“My man?” I asked.
“Yes, the one who was by the door?” Julian said.
“Oh, he’s not my man. He’s… um, a friend.”
“You didn’t seem too happy with what he was saying,” Julian commented and then took a sip of his coffee.
“Julian, stop being nosey,” Clary ordered.
Laughing, I told her, “He’s fine. Bryson, the friend, wanted to, um, see if we could be more than friends. It was awkward since I’d already told him I didn’t want to date.”
“Date just him or date at all?” Julian questioned.
I wasn’t sure why I was talking to them about this, but I did feel comfortable around them. It was weird. Usually it took me a while to warm up to people. Maybe what helped was that Clary and Cody knew each other.
“Date him. He’s asked me to think about it at least.”
“Interesting.” Julian smiled. “Why don’t you take a seat for a little while?” He moved the seat next to him out with his foot. I guess since I was the boss, I could take a break or two.
“Sure.” I sat down and nodded to their empty plates. “Was everything okay?”
“It was amazing,” Zara said. “We tried a little of each other’s. I’ll be spreading the word to everyone about here.”
My chest warmed. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Julian waved a hand around. “Anyway,” he drew out. “What made you so happy after being out the back?”
His persistence made me laugh. “A friend is coming by tonight with pizza. Anyone can get happy about pizza.”
“That’s true,” Clary said.
“A guy or girl friend?” Julian queried.
“A guy friend, and yes, before you ask, we are only friends.” I smiled.
He grinned in return. “My little dumpling, you’ve already got me pegged.”
“Channa,” Clary started, gaining my attention. “How did you come about owning a bakery? You must be, what, twenty?”
“Twenty-two actually. Mum and I always loved baking. It was our dream to own our own bakery. We made that dream come true.”
“Oh, is your mum here?”
My smile dimmed a little. “No. She passed away.”
Julian and Clary gasped. But it was Zara who reached across the table to lay her hand on mine. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” She smiled gently, pulling her hand away. “I just bet she would be proud you kept this wonderful business going.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“Channa, baby,” Amos called from the door. “Marry me?”
Laughing, I shook my head. “Not today.”
He pouted. “One day, mark my word,” he declared before he walked out and let Mrs Brickston step through with her cart before he closed the door.
When I glanced back to the others, they all stared at me with puzzled looks. “That’s Amos. A regular, and he only wants me for my cakes.”
They laughed. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. “Hi, Mrs Brickston, how are you today?” I stood and moved beside her, taking hold of her forearm.
“I’m good, Channa. I just wanted to drop by and give you some jars of my homemade jam.” She reached into her cart with her weathered, arthritic hands and pulled out a jar, then another, and handed them to me.
“Thank you so much, Mrs Brickston. I look forward to trying them.” Glancing to the counter, I called, “Denise, can you get Mrs Brickston her usual?”
“On it,” she replied.
“Mrs Brickston, I’ll go and get you a box of treats. You take a seat and wait right here.” I pulled out my seat next to Julian and guided her into it. “Mrs Brickston, this is Julian, Zara, and Clary. Now they’re new friends, so don’t go telling them anything too bad.”
She cackled at that and patted my hand. “I’ll try not to.”
Smiling, I nodded. I knew I’d left her at the right table when I heard more laughter coming from there as I boxed up some cakes before I went out the back and did another box of cold pies. These would last her the week.
Mrs Brickston had been dropping by every second week for the last two years, and she always offered me all types of things she made from home. I didn’t mind at all giving her cakes and pies in return. She was such a sweet soul. One day her daughter had