Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,39

on adding a few more, eventually. And I need some speed bags, but it’s a work in progress.

What a difference a week makes.

What a difference a few months makes.

The day I rolled into Green Valley, which doesn’t seem that long ago, I was searching and pretty fucking lost. Over the past seven days, as I’ve worked all my nights at the Pink Pony, spent my mornings running, and every afternoon working on this place, I’ve found a sense of peace and purpose.

Yesterday, I popped into Donner Bakery after my run, looking for a muffin… and the Duchess of Muffins, but she’d already left for the day. The consolation prize was the last two Muffins of the Day—Mama Tried. They were peanut butter and banana… and fucking delicious. I had to go run a few extra miles just to make up for them, but they were well worth it.

Tempest and her muffins—and the names—are quickly becoming my favorite things in Green Valley.

Checking the clock I hung on the wall, I see it’s almost time for her first lesson—if she shows.

She’ll show, right?

I mean, no big deal if she doesn’t. I was planning on doing all of this before I offered to teach her, so it’s no loss, but I really hope she shows up.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Who am I these days?

Worried about whether or not a woman will show up?

This is so not me and I’m worried that along with blowing out my shoulder, I might’ve also grown a vagina. Glancing down my abs that are covered in a tight black T-shirt, I give my dick a nod.

Still there.

Not like it doesn’t give me a reminder every fucking time Tempest is around—or I think of her—or catch a whiff of something sweet.

Turning on the radio I brought down from upstairs, I amp up the volume to fill the space and drown out my thoughts. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the only two channels I can pick up on it are an old, classic rock station and a country western one. I smirk at the thought of Tempest—red hair, perfect little nose, big green eyes… full lips and—

Fucking stop.

Growling out my frustration, I turn to one of the bags, pull on some gloves, and go to town. The tightness in my right shoulder keeps me from unleashing the beast. The Fighting Viking isn’t as intimidating as he once was, but I still let the punches fly and every kick makes contact, giving my lower body the workout it’s been craving.

When the front door opens, my eyes slide over to the mirrors, seeing Tempest’s reflection. Just before she sees me looking at her, I’m pretty sure I catch her ogling me. Those green eyes go wide before zeroing in on my back... and if I’m not mistaken, her teeth bite down on her bottom lip.

“Hey,” she says, scanning the room, nerves replacing whatever it was she was just feeling and the wall she usually has up seems to reinforce. “Am I too early?” While she’s looking down at her phone, obviously checking the time, I take a split second to do inventory: tight black yoga pants, loose tank top, sports bra peeking out under her arms. Her hair is pulled up on top of her head, no makeup.

Perfect.

“You’re right on time,” I tell her, pulling one of the gloves off with my teeth, and then the other, tossing them to the side. “You can put your bag over there.”

She walks to the corner I’m pointing to and I try to not look at her ass as she bends over to deposit her bag on the floor.

Try and fail.

Miserably.

“We should, uh,” I begin, clearing my throat. “We should stretch first.”

Turning toward me, she nods slowly. “I’m not very… athletic.” She makes the statement like it’s a warning or maybe an apology. “I like to go running and sometimes I do work-out videos at home, but I’ve never really tried a sport… I mean, if I had one, it’d be baking, and that doesn’t really burn calories.” Her awkward, uncomfortable laugh is enough to pull me out of my head and get my dick in line. It’s adorable, and a turn on, but it’s also a reality check.

She’s nervous and out of her element and she’s expecting me to be her guide.

This is what I’m good at.

I can do this.

“We’ll start simple, so don’t worry about it. Don’t even think of it like a sport. The awesome thing about kickboxing