The Baker's Touch Read Online Free

me in a consult room?”
    “It’s warmer up here and you don’t have to walk through a bunch of glass,” Avery said. There was a catch in his voice.
    She clutched his sleeve. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
    “You’re entirely too perceptive at times.” He blew out a sigh. “I received a phone call the other day, asking if the shop was for sale.”
    “And you said?”
    “The shop isn’t for sale. What did you expect me to say? This is your family’s business and everyone knows it’s not for sale.”
    She trailed her fingers along the smooth walls until they came to an opening. “But why would anyone think this business is for sale? We’ve been here for over a hundred years. We’re not going anywhere.”
    “Right.”
    “So you’re thinking the call and the break-in are related?”
    “Maybe someone trying to scare you into selling.”
    She snorted. “Like that would ever happen.” She shrugged out of her coat. Before she could find the coat tree to hang it on, Avery removed it from her fingers. Awareness zipped up her arm. Heat crept into her cheeks as once more desire sidled through her veins. “Thank you.”
    He halted in front of her. “You’re not upset that I’m leaving you in here while we clean up the mess out there?”
    She rested a hand on his chest. Warmth seeped through her palm. For a moment she considered what it would be like to have it pressed to his skin. Would he have coarse or downy soft hair or perhaps none at all? Damn her dream. Swallowing hard, she dropped her hand. “I would be more of a liability out there. No sense in distracting you from what needs to be done.”
    “You keep things interesting.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “Your hair is wet.”
    “I know.”
    “You didn’t have to come out. I could’ve handled this.” Disapproval hung in his voice.
    She lifted her chin in defiance. “It’s not your responsibility.”
    “But you are,” came the quiet reply. “I’ll be back to get you when we’re done.”
    Stunned, Penelope could only nod. When he said things like that, she got the impression she meant more to him than just his co-worker, but he couldn’t be interested in her. At least she didn’t think he was, but then why should he?
    The faint thud of his footfalls signaled his departure. Carefully, she made her way to one of the chairs and sat. On any other day, she’d be elbow deep in a bowl of cake batter or rolling out pie crust dough. Everything in the shop was made from scratch. Everything from cookies to frosting.
    She dragged agitated fingers through her tangle of damp hair. If something more had been taken then maybe she could see the rationale, but a few blocks of chocolate and a broken door were not enough to intimidate her.
    And speaking of the door... She stood and made her way to the entrance of the room. With one hand on the door jamb, she stepped into the hall and listened to the sounds of the bakery.
    The murmur of voices along with the tinkle of glass and slight drag of straw strands against linoleum drifted to her ears. Beyond that, diesel engines grumbled while air brakes squealed. Downtown would awaken and though she wanted to open the shop for business, she had to be certain it was safe to do so.
    She stepped back, her fingers fell on smooth cool paper. She stepped back in the room and peeled the page from its mooring on the wall. She slid her hand across the missive, surprised to find tiny raised dots—Braille. This couldn’t be right. She skimmed her fingers over the bumps again.
    You are my everything.
    Why would someone send this to her? Could it be her mystery man? Hope surge anew, but how did he know where she worked? She stepped into the hall again, this time walking until she stood at the edge of the hallway.
    “Avery?” Cool air swirled around her ankles.
    Footsteps shuffled, the squeak of hinges and his soft tread. “Yes?”
    “Have you seen this?” She held out the sheet of paper.
    “It’s in