Page 10 of Zeke
I’m nearly done with the level, one move away from finally winning, when the door tinkles to alert me that someone is walking in. I glance up for just a second, but it’s long enough to make me lose my level.
Again.
“Hey, Kira,” Zeke says as he approaches the counter.
Zeke is one of our regulars here, and I don’t quite know what to make of him most days. He and his twin brother come into the bakery a lot, and they are both super friendly…. sometimes overly so. In fact, there are some days where it is impossible not to notice that Zeke is flirting with me. But there are also days where he comes in quiet, almost shy. That’s when I get to know him a little better. When he puts the showman away and can just be himself.
“Hi, Zeke,” I say, leaning over the counter with a smile. I’d be lying if I say I don’t find him attractive. He’s tall and gorgeous, and even when he’s being a flirt and a goof, he has a presence about him that you can’t help but enjoy. He really seems to understand people, which so many rarely do.
I’m curious which version of Zeke I’m getting today, but he seems to be neither somehow. He looks around the bakery frantically, like he’s looking for something.
“Everything okay?” I ask, feeling a little bit worried about the way he’s acting.
“Yeah,” he says, rushing up to the counter. He’s moving unusually quickly. “I need puppy biscuits.” His words all come out in a rush.
“You in a hurry?” I ask as I go to check the case.
“Yeah,” he says, following me along the case to where we keep the puppy biscuits. “Gotta get back to the farmhouse.”
“Oh, no,” I say, bending down to look in the case. “I’m sorry, Zeke. We don’t have any left.”
“Then I need you to make some,” he says, the tone he uses leaving no doubt that this is a demand.
I’m taken aback for a second. He’s not usually so brash with me, and it is strange to see this side of him.
I give him a look that lets him know I’m not pleased with his tone, but also that what he’s asking for just isn’t reasonable.
“I can’t just whip up some puppy biscuits,” I tell him. “They take at least an hour between prep and baking.”
“Shit,” he says, running a hand through his hair.
“Why do you need them so bad?” I ask, curious since I’ve been to the farmhouse before, and they don’t have a dog.
“Eden found a hurt stray dog,” he says. “Cute little guy. But he’s in kind of rough shape, so I wanted to get him something special.”
I can’t believe how sweet it is. He is frantic and desperate because he wants to get a treat for a dog he just met.
“Kira,” my dad interrupts, poking his head out of the back room. “The peanut butter muffins should be dog safe.”
“Really?” Zeke says, his heartbreaking smile spreading across his face. “That’s great. I’ll take all of them.”
Dad looks pleased as he heads back into the kitchen, and I start to pack up the muffins for Zeke.
“So,” I say, trying to make conversation since he seems to be in a better mood now that we have a solution for him. “Do you have any pictures of him?”
“No,” he says, his face falling a bit. “I should have taken some, though. He’s got this really soft fur that feels like velvet or something.”
“Did y’all give him a name?” I ask, stuffing more muffins into the box. This is a huge order.
“Eli did,” he says with a scoff. “He called him Bastard.”
I try not to laugh. “You’re… you’re joking, right?”
“Nope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Leave it to Eli to come up with something completely ridiculous like that.”
“I don’t know,” I say as I think about the club and their names and how they all interact. “I think it sounds like a great name for a Ruthless Canine.”
Zeke laughs at my joke, then shrugs. “I guess you have a point there. Too bad you can't come by and meet him.”