Life’s Spiced Up with Some Werewolf Reads

Chapter 59 – The Alpha And The Baker

“Oh, nothing,” I answered quickly, not wanting to distract her. I was supposed to be a help, not a hindrance. “You got something heavy you want me to lift?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” There was that beaming smile again. Even if I wasn’t a shifter, I liked to think that it would power me up enough that I could carry anything in her shop if she only wished it. “I’ve got three batches of sourdough, about eight different types of bagel batches and a big ol’ focaccia that’s gonna make at least three loaves all in the retarder.”

I paused mid-step. “I’m sorry, what?”

She frowned at me, then burst out laughing. “Right. I’ve been in the business too long because I forgot what that sounded like. So, to retard means to slow something down, so when it’s used in music, or in baking, or even in firefighting, you’re just saying slow it down.

“Unfortunately, a bunch of jerkwipes decided to hijack it and use it as a slur against people, which sucks, but I assure you, my retarder just uses a cooler to slow down the natural process of yeast, ya know? It controls that natural fermentation process to make proofing even smoother and more predictable.”

“Ah, that makes sense. But what does your dough have to prove? Has it committed a crime?”

I tried to keep my face as deadpan as possible when I asked, and it worked like a charm. Felicia gave me another quizzical look before connecting her comment about proofing to my question.

“Oh my god, you’re terrible.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to batter you with my puns.”

“Oh no! No, no, no!” she said with mock drama, emphatically waving her arms. “It is far too early for baking puns. Especially ones that sound like they came from the back of a

Highlights magazine!”

“I take offense to that. I assure you, I make all my terrible puns from scratch.”

I batted my eyes at her, directly mimicking the same move she used on me.

She reached into a bag of flour. Felicia moved surprisingly fast for a human, and the next thing I knew, I had a flour print of her hand on my face.

“Did you just

Simba me?” I asked, trying to hold back incredulous laughter, only to have it come out in short, staccato huffs.

“No,” she responded primly. “If I had, I would have just streaked some across your forehead with my thumb. No, I went all

Uruk

-hai on you with a whole-ass handprint. Welcome to the bakery,

Lurtz!”

Funny, intelligent, a thicc ass, and she knew

Lord of the Rings well enough to name the character created specifically in

The Fellowship of the Rings movies for Aragon to kill directly?

She really was the perfect woman.

“Come here, you!” I said, lunging toward her and the flour. “A

Lurtz needs his

Ugluk!”

“No, no! I’m not the hobbit you’re looking for!” she said before darting to the side, dropping to her knees, and skittering under one of the counters. Wow, she really moved fast. “You’re not welcome here in the Shire!”

Then she lobbed a frozen stick of butter at me.

I dodged, but only barely, because I was laughing so hard. I was supposed to be helping Felicia, and I had thought that would mean a lot of hard work and being out of my depth, but so far I was having a blast.

I’d never had so much fun after waking up at four-thirty in the morning.

“You’re gonna regret that.” I leaped over the counter and chased after her.

Felicia’s bakery wasn’t big, so I had to nerf myself a bit to give her more time to scramble away. I could have caught her a couple of times, but where was the fun in that? As both a wolf and a man, I liked to chase just as much as she enjoyed being pursued.

Eventually, I did catch her. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and I jerked her flush to my front. The moment we made contact, all that levity drained away, leaving both of us a bit breathless and very much distracted.

“We’re supposed to be getting ingredients out,” she murmured.

“We are.” I was tempted to say “fuck it” and crash my lips to hers, but I couldn’t mess with Felicia’s business. It was her livelihood. I straightened and made my way over to her dough retarder like a good little helper.

The dough was heavy.

Not anywhere near my limit, but now I understood why Felicia had such lovely biceps.

Felicia settled into her rhythm. I helped whenever she asked, usually just carrying something from one section to another.


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