Page 6 of Rumours and Romance
“You just said I watch TV.”
“You know what I mean, Mila,” Ethan fixes me with a frown.
“Just because you two are love-drunk happy doesn’t mean everyone needs to be. I’m perfectly content with my bakery, my family, my friends, and now my dog.”
Thankfully, they don’t push me any further, and eventually the conversation drifts to the resort that Summer is updating. Her grand reopening is just a few weeks away, and we’re all getting excited. Her dad leaving the resort to her in his will was sad, naturally, because he died before they could reconcile. But I can’t ever be upset that it brought my best friend back to town. Having her fall in love with my brother was weird at first, but it’s all worked out.
Amid talk of furniture and landscaping, I start yawning. Not because I’m bored, but because my early morning is catching up to me and I’m ready to head home. The downside of opening the bakery every morning is that I need to be in bed by nine. With a container full of leftovers for my lunch tomorrow, I hug my brother and Summer goodbye, and Milo and I drive the short distance back to my house.
Pulling into my driveway, I turn off the engine and sit there, looking at my house. I love it, don’t get me wrong. Ethan and I decided our first investments with the money our parents left us would be houses for ourselves. It was a smart decision, and over the years I’ve made it into the perfect home for myself.
At least I thought it was perfect for just me.
Maybe it’s the conversation from earlier, but suddenly I’m struck by how big of a house it is for just one person, with three bedrooms and a large yard. I have no intention of having kids, but still, rattling around the place does get a little lonely. Not that I would ever admit that to Ethan and Summer. With Milo here, some of that has abated, and the yard is now full of tennis balls and rope toys. But talking to myself every evening has turned into talking to my dog, and I’m not sure which is more pathetic.
The next morning Milo and I arrive at the bakery before the world wakes up, as usual. He settles right down on the dog bed I set up for him over by my small desk area, and promptly falls back asleep. Lucky dog. I turn on my podcast and get to work mixing up dough, and setting loaves that proofed overnight in the oven. Over the next couple of hours, each of my staff arrive, and the day starts humming along perfectly.
Right before I switch the sign to open, I go outside to the sidewalk in front of the bakery. Turner and Pete, two of the older men in town are waiting patiently. They’re always first to arrive, and sit over a cup of coffee and a scone each morning. I greet them, then put down the full bowl of water I’ve always supplied for the dogs in town. Having Milo makes it all the more meaningful to me. Back inside, I wander through the space, making sure the cushions on the chairs are fluffed, and everything is clean and cozy looking. A smudge on the front of the display case catches my eye, and I quickly wipe it away. No smudges allowed.
Half an hour later, I’m running the cash register while Sebastian is busy helping Riley and her husband, Dean, with their order when the door to the bakery opens, and in comes bran muffin man. His eyes widen ever so slightly when he sees me, but he doesn’t answer my smile with anything more than a small nod of his head.
“Good morning.” His voice rumbles over me.
“Good morning, back for another geriatric muffin, or can I interest you in something else this time?”
Finally I see his lips quirk up at the corner. “Geriatric muffin?”
“Yup. I only make the bran muffins because they’re popular with the over sixty crowd. You’re the youngest person to order one in months.”
He raises his eyebrows at me, but there’s a slight smile on his face. “Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’ll take a bran muffin and a dark roast coffee, please.”
I let out a small huff and roll my eyes, softening it with a smile. “Fine. But one of these days, you’ve got to try an apple nut muffin. I’m famous for them, you know.”
He inclines his head toward me. “I did not know that. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I mean, I’m only famous here in town, so I guess it doesn’t count as much. But still, that’s why the bakery is named The Nutty Muffin. Get it?”
Oh Lord, Mila, shut up right now.
But his eyes are dancing at my rambling, even if his face is still fairly stoic. This guy is a tough nut to crack, pun intended. I pass him over his muffin and fill his travel mug with the coffee he requested.
“Are you staying in town?” I’m being nosy, as per usual. He cocks his head and pauses a second before answering brusquely.
“Yes, at the motel for now.”
Geez, the guy doesn’t believe in small talk, I guess. He turns to go, and I call out one last thing, determined to have the last word.
“See you again tomorrow.”
He pauses halfway to the door, turns back to me, nods once, and then he’s gone. And I have a new mission. Somehow, I will make that man smile. And eat a cinnamon bun.
That afternoon, I leave the bakery early and take Milo back to the vet clinic for his follow up. Doctor Morton wants his new vet to assess Milo’s leg, and I have to admit that my own personal curiosity has me excited to meet the town’s newest resident.
But nothing could have prepared me for when the door to the exam room opens, and bran muffin man walks in. The white lab coat over his button-down shirt is weirdly sexy, and the look of confusion on his face might just be the most expression I’ve ever seen from him.
“Hi.” I give a small wave, feeling ridiculous.
“You’re Mila Monroe? And” — he looks down at the chart in front of him — “Milo? You named your dog Milo?” His voice is layered with surprise.
