Chapter 1

Serge Zumpano, you’re a wuss.

I sat in my truck facing Crumbs Together, the best bakery and patisserie I’d ever come across in all my travels with my old job. René Glass, the owner, was known all over the region for his sumptuous treats. His delightful creations were in high demand, so much so that he had decided to expand his business with a second shop an hour up the coast, near the school where my best friend, Woody Anker, worked as a teacher.

It was an old diner that the owners had sold to René for a song, apparently, and now, thanks to my lucky stars, René had hired me for the job, something that would definitely put my fledgling renovation business on the way to being in the black, instead of relying on my savings.

So here I was, waiting for the man to open his shop at six in the morning so I could get my fix of his delectable delicacies, whether they be cinnamon rolls, chocolate-filled croissants, or cream-filled whats-its, along with the absolutely necessary hot chocolate with cayenne and fresh bread just out of the oven, with cream cheese, to go. I moaned just thinking about the way the bread would melt in my mouth.

René had studied in Europe and worked for prestigious hotels and restaurants around the world before deciding to settle in our little beach town. I was obsessed with everything he made, though I wasn’t sure it was just because his pastries were beyond good—which they were—or because the man was super, super hot—which he indeed was. No doubt about it.

Didn’t matter, though. I had no chance with a man like that. He was successful, rich, and out of my league. He made me look like a country bumpkin, as refined as he appeared, even when covered in flour or with a streak of frosting on his cheek. Those butterscotch-brown eyes and dark brown hair the color of the chocolate in his fancy baked goods, not to mention the cutest nose I’ve ever seen and such a sweet smile…Okay, that’s enough of that.

Saving me from having an orgasm right there in my truck simply from thinking about the man and food together, I saw the light come on in the storefront of Crumbs Together and prepared for my first viewing of René for the day. It was a good thing my metabolism was pretty damn high because the amount of food I bought from this man should have made me roly-poly a long time ago.

And there he was, pushing backward through the swinging doors that separated the work area from the front of the shop, and placing a huge metal tray on top of the glass counter. Ooh, were those cinnamon rolls? Man…

I looked at my cell phone, willing the minutes to six o’clock to move faster so I could get my fix. I had it bad, and I didn’t care. Woody, along with my older brother Rafe, the town sheriff, teased me something awful about my fixation on this place, and the man who owned it.

While I berated myself for my ridiculous behavior, my stomach growled. And, as if he had heard my insides rumbling, René looked up to see my truck parked outside his glass window, and smiled.

* * * *

As soon as René turned the sign to “Open” and unlocked the door, I rushed inside, not only because I was hungry, but it was also warmer in there. The heater in my truck was on the fritz. Mmm, the decadent scents of spices, bread, chocolate…well, you get the idea. This early in the morning, I was the only one in line. That would change later on. During the busy months, René hired some extra hands to help him with the huge crowds he attracted to his shop.

It was cold outside, what with it being January and all. Though most places in town were slow this time of year, Crumbs Together had a steady business because people liked tasty treats, and they came from miles around to get them. It also didn’t hurt that the proprietor was as delicious as his sinfully tasty creations. God, I really needed to stop.

“Hi, René,” I greeted him, rubbing my hands together to warm them as I watched him prepare my hot beverage of choice. He knew by now that, if nothing else, I always had his spicy hot chocolate in the mornings.

“Serge,” he replied, smiling as he placed a cup of wonderfully smelling cocoa before me. “What will it be today?”

I blinked for a second, blinded by his happy expression and the hair that he’d tucked behind his ears gleaming in the soft light of the shop. “Uh, two cinnamon rolls, a couple pumpkin vanilla bagels, cream cheese, and a loaf of French bread, please.”

He winked at me, and my stomach flip-flopped. “You got it.”

I tried not to ogle the man as he put together my order. Once René placed the bulging paper bag in front of me, he rang me up and I handed over cash.