apartment. I follow, taking in her frayed jeans and white tee that’s knotted in the back, revealing a sliver of pale skin just above her checkered apron. Her casual look is completely at odds with my plaid slacks, T-shirt, and sky-blue suit coat I wore to what she described as a business meeting.
Regardless, my stomach likes what it smells as I turn the corner into her bright kitchen with whitewashed walls, white cabinets, and a large cream marble slab over an island containing the sink.
“I hope you eat red meat,” she says as she stirs something over the commercial-grade stove.
“I am a carnivore.” I slip off my jacket while checking out Norah’s ass in those tight jeans.
“Extra-large from what I hear,” she says, glancing over her shoulder and catching me before I raise my gaze to hers.
I can’t help it. Norah has curves that must be appreciated. I’m an ass man, and Norah’s might be the best I’ve seen. It’s a travesty she hides her curves under those aprons.
Shaking the image of her in nothing but an apron out of my head, I mosey into her attached living room that has a bank of windows overlooking Pearl Street. I glance down to see the streetlights have come on and people appear to be heading out for the night. “How long have you lived here?”
A sizzle escapes the stove as Norah replies, “Since I bought the bakery so…eight years, I guess?”
I nod, and my brow furrows. “You were how old when you opened Rise and Shine?”
She glances over her shoulder. “Are you trying to guess my age, Moser?”
“No, I’m trying to figure out how a young twentysomething could afford a bakery and an apartment on Pearl Street. This is a hot location.”
She nods and turns back to the stove. “I was twenty-two, which makes me thirty now if you must know. And I had my dad co-sign a business loan for me.” She turns to look at me. “I assume you didn’t have to take out a loan to invest in Rise and Shine-Denver?”
I ignore that question and turn the corner to peer into a set of frosted sliding doors. They lead into a bedroom with a perfectly made white bed covered in white throw pillows. A large black and white photo of the Eiffel Tower covers the far wall.
“Have you been to Paris before?” I ask as I head back into the kitchen and take a seat at the marble island.
“Not yet.” There’s a wistful note to her voice as she pours a creamy sauce into a glass gravy boat. “It’s at the top of my list, though.”
“Why Paris? Why not Thailand or Brazil or South Africa?”
She pins me with a dubious look. “Do you really have to ask a baker that question? Paris is known for its pastries and desserts. It’s like a mecca for a baker. Plus, my friend Chelle from culinary school lives there, and she’s always sending me photos of Parisian bakeries, and it’s just…so inspiring. A lot more inspiring than good ole Boulder, Colorado. I would love to move there someday.”
I nod and smile as she pushes a bottle of red wine and two glasses toward me, silently bidding me to open it and pour. I do as I’m told as she plates what looks like a filet steak with broccolini and some type of fancy potato. “Looks like you’re a decent cook too.”
Her blue eyes swerve up to meet mine. “You haven’t tasted it yet. It could taste like poison.”
I huff out an incredulous laugh. “My nose rarely leads me astray.”
She adds a garnish of some crispy herbs and uses a rag to wipe the edges of the plates where the béarnaise sauce went astray.
I lean down to catch her eyes and break through her serious concentration. “Is it perfect yet?”
Her eyes narrow. “Presentation is key to pulling in all of your senses when you eat.”
My brows lift. “I must have missed that in the Rise and Shine brand philosophy.”
“It’s not a me thing. It’s a food thing.” She straightens and removes the apron from around her waist. I take the opportunity to drift over her hourglass figure before looking at the presentation she’s slid in front of me.
“You smelled the food when you walked in, right?” she asks, pinning me with a look.
“Yes.”
“And you heard the sizzling of the sauce on the stove?”
“Yes.”
She grabs a spoon and dips it into the gravy boat. “You’ve seen my presentation, which means there’s only one thing