I slammed the doors shut on the van and pushed the cart toward the side door of the elementary school, where deliveries were made to Cook Cramer. I swear Mrs. Cramer was timeless. She’d been cooking here since I was a kid, and since I’m thirty, that’s a lot of years. In truth, I went to school with her kids, so she’s not that old, but she is one of the most beloved figures in this school for both her fantastic food and her sweet nature. She didn’t have time to make forty dozen cupcakes, though.
“Oaf,” I said, nearly coming to a complete halt and grabbing boxes of cupcakes as they started to slide off the cart. “What the hell?” I exclaimed, standing with the last box before it hit the ground.
I stared into a face that was as surprised as mine was. “Sorry,” the guy said, taking the box from my shaking hands and sliding it back onto the cart. “I had my back turned and didn’t know you were coming.”
“You couldn’t hear the cart with the one rattling wheel coming up behind you?” I asked hotly. “I don’t think the kids are going to appreciate smashed cupcakes for graduation. You were probably on your phone.”
He held it up sheepishly, and I huffed. “I was, but in my defense, I was arguing with a teenager.” Before I could answer, he stuck his hand out. “Bishop Halla.”
I reluctantly shook his hand but didn’t smile. “Amber Larson. Halla. That’s?”
“Finnish,” he answered, hitting the doorbell by the kitchen door so Mrs. Cramer knew someone was waiting.
“I should have known since we are in Minnesota,” I said, chuckling. Another crack of thunder filled the air, and I jumped, sliding under the awning over the door while silently begging Cook Cramer to hurry up.
“That’s a long way away,” he said casually.
“I know. Are you here for a reason?” I asked, wondering why he was hanging around.
He pointed at the door. “I’m a teacher. I’ll go in this way, too.”
“If you’re a teacher here, don’t you have a key?”
The door opened, and Mrs. Cramer peeked her head out. “Oh, Amber!”
“Hi, Mrs. Cramer. The Fluffy Cupcake has arrived with your, well, fluffy cupcakes.”
She clapped excitedly and propped the door open. “You know it’s graduation day when the cupcakes show up! Hey, good morning, Mr. Halla,” she said, acknowledging the man standing next to me as she peered into a box. Her grin grew when she spotted all the penguins in their cuteness. “Adorable as always. Haylee is a cupcake goddess.”
“You know it! I have thirteen of these boxes.”
“I already made space. I’ll unload this cart while you get the next load. There’s another cart over there,” she said, pointing to a metal cart by the wall. “You have about twenty minutes before the buses arrive and the kids start streaming in.”
“I better move then,” I said, heading to the door. “I don’t want to be accosted by three-foot-tall cupcake thieves.”
The man who I had forgotten was still standing there laughed heartily. “You’ve got them pegged. How about if I help you with the other boxes, and we’ll make quick work of it?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said instantly, grabbing the cart after swapping mine out with Mrs. Cramer. “You have work to do, I’m sure.”
He set his bag and coffee mug down just inside the door of the kitchen and shrugged. “I can’t do much until the kids arrive. Maybe if I help you bring the rest in, I’ll feel less guilty about almost ruining the cupcakes.”
I eyed him up and down then. He was ridiculously handsome standing there in his button-up dress shirt and tie. The pink pinstriped shirt was tucked into his dress slacks, and his feet were adorned in a pair of Hush Puppies. The look was trendy and hip, but that wasn’t what sucked me in. His face did that all by itself. His eyes were a luscious garnet green that drew you in and held you in his atmosphere whenever he spoke. Dammit. I was a sucker for green eyes. I could feel my resolve weakening about letting him help. He wore a beard tightly clipped to his skin, his hair slicked back and blended in to meet the beard, and a pair of lips that could kiss the heck out of you without breaking a sweat. Where the heck did that come from, Amber?
I realized I was staring at him, so I shrugged nonchalantly—so as not to look like I cared what he did—and started pushing the cart toward the van. “Suit yourself,” I said as he walked beside me.
“I haven’t seen you around before, Amber,” he said, making conversation as we loaded the cart up with boxes.
“Then you must be new here. I’ve lived in Lake Pendle my entire life, and I run the bakery on Main Street. You don’t have to look hard to find me.”
He rose to his full height of over six feet, and I whimpered a little. He was good enough to eat. I loved a tall, handsome man with a pair of
