Page 9 of Biker Under My Tree

I hightailed it after him and managed to skirt around him to walk into the kitchen first. “The eight boxes are right here.”

“Damn,” he sighed, taking in the neatly stacked boxes. “That is a lot.”

I shrugged. “Not really when you think about it. This’ll keep the coffee shop’s case full for a week.” I lifted the lid off the top box, showing him what was inside. “It’s all raw and frozen. Croissants, bear claws, two types of muffin batter already portioned out, and four dozen decorated cupcakes.” I put the lid back on. “Everything’s ready to be thawed and baked when they need it. Well, everything except the cupcakes. That would be a mess if they tried to bake those.”

Bones looked at me, eyes widening. “Wait, I’ve had the bear claws from the coffee shop. They’re amazing.”

I felt my cheeks heat up at the compliment. “Well, thank you. I make them, then the coffee shop just bakes them fresh.”

“That’s amazing.”

I grabbed the top box, not sure how much more of his praise I could handle without completely melting. “Yes, well, we need to get these loaded up before they start thawing. You can take the delivery van.”

Bones shot me a teasing grin. “You don’t think I can fit these on the back of my bike?”

I rolled my eyes and headed toward the door. “I think it’d take you eight trips, and that’s only if you didn’t dump them all over the road.”

Bones laughed his warm, low chuckle, which made me smile. “You’d be right about that one, Sugar. Though, I was thinking I could take my truck.”

I paused and tilted my head. “No, take the van. You’re not using your own vehicle and gas to help me out. The van is ready to go.”

He followed me outside and over to the delivery van parked at the end of the driveway. We loaded up in two quick trips and stacked the boxes neatly in the back.

Once everything was packed, Bones slid into the driver’s seat and rolled down the window. He leaned an arm on the door as he looked over at me. “I won’t be long,” he promised and gave me a smile that sent my heart racing.

“Take your time. Well, actually, on the way back, take your time. You kind of need to get those boxes over there ASAP before they start thawing.”

Bones nodded, and his grin widened. “You got it, boss.” He backed out of the driveway, giving me one last look before heading off toward the coffee shop.

I watched him drive away and felt unexpectedly light. It wasn’t every day I had someone step in and help me like that. And not just anyone—a guy like Bones. There was something about him: the rugged, rough-around-the-edges look with that warm, teasing smile… he was as helpful as he was good-looking.

I shook my head and let out a little sigh as I realized I’d just been standing there, watching him go like some lovesick fool.

With a start, I remembered the muffins still in the oven. “Oh, shit!” I muttered and spun on my heel to dash back into the house before I could burn the place down.

Chapter Eight

Bones

“Is something wrong with Snow?”

I shook my head and offered a reassuring smile. “Nah, just shorthanded over the holidays.”

She furrowed her brow and looked more concerned than I expected. I glanced at her name tag—Cheryl. “Is something wrong with Kelsi and Tom?” she pressed.

I shrugged. “Not really sure. Snow asked me to help, so I’m here to help.” That was the honest truth. Snow had never asked me for help before, so whatever this was, I was there to make it easier on her.

Cheryl’s expression softened, and she nodded approvingly. “Well, that’s nice of you. Snow’s so talented at what she does. She deserves nice people around her to help. I just hope she can still get my frosted sugar cookie order done for next week. I plan on giving a free cookie with every order leading up to Christmas.”

I nodded. “I’m sure she’ll be able to get them done.”

“Are you sure? It’s twenty-five dozen,” Cheryl added and watched my face carefully.

Twenty-five dozen. That was… a lot of cookies. I fought to hide my surprise. “Uh… Sure, that won’t be a problem for Snow if that’s what you ordered.”

“And that’s plus my normal weekly order,” Cheryl added.

I nodded again and hoped I was selling the “no problem” angle. “No problem at all.”