by penny watson
“Wonderful! You are a darling girl. I’ll see you in the morning.” Bertha wrapped a bright pink muffler around her face and hurried out of the shop.
Before Lucy had a chance to find out her mystery man’s name, another arm reached out and grabbed her. “Lucy! Come and see our new puppy! He’s an early Christmas present from Santa!”
Little Amy Chandler was tugging Lucy’s hand and pointing to a bundle of fur wrapped in a blanket on her mother’s lap. Dogs should not be in the bakery, but the puppy did look adorable. Lucy better say a quick hello. And of course she would send them home with a bag of homemade dog biscuits, shaped like elves. In a matter of moments Lucy was surrounded by children all wanting to pet the new puppy.
Nicholas carefully folded his coat over the back of a café chair and watched Lucy giggle with the children, as the puppy (lucky bastard) licked her face like an ice cream cone. He could barely contain his irritation.
First of all, a dog had no place in a dining establishment. What the hell was the woman thinking? Secondly, if a customer attempted a last-minute order change, Nicholas would firmly instruct him that all orders were final five days prior to the gathering. How could one efficiently run a kitchen without rules? Thirdly, and most importantly, Nicholas could smell gingerbread. Cookies. And they were burning. Lucy was oblivious. And her young assistant with the nose ring was leaning over the front counter watching the puppy, utterly clueless about the impending culinary disaster.
Nicholas tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for someone to remember the cookies. He knew by the scent that the cookies were browning, probably a bit too dark around the edges. Still waiting. Now the assistant was snuggling with the puppy, and an old man was regaling Lucy with some ridiculous story.
Oh, the hell with it.
Nicholas marched into the kitchen, which was surprisingly clean, found a pair of oven mitts shaped like Laurel and Hardy, and removed the cookies from the oven. He discovered wire racks in a cupboard and lined them up on the counter. Although the cookies were a tad dark, they were still salvageable. Thanks to him. Using a spatula, he carefully transferred each gingerbread man to cool on the racks. He washed and dried his hands at the sink, and turned around to find Lucy and her nose-pierced assistant staring at him in disbelief.
Lucy stepped up to him, hands on her hips. “Just what do you think you’re doing in my kitchen? I don’t remember inviting you in here!” she demanded.
“Yeah!” added the assistant. Clearly not the brightest bulb on the planet.
“Since you and your assistant were too busy to tend to the kitchen, and an entire order of gingerbread was about to go up in smoke, I thought I would lend a helping hand. No need to thank me.” Nicholas smiled and raised his left eyebrow in a manner his brother Sven insisted was infuriating.
“Thank you? Kandy and I are more than capable of looking after the kitchen. We do not need your help, Mr…?”
“Klaus. Nicholas Sebastian Klaus. Is your assistant really named Candy? How… charming.”
“It’s Kandy Kane, with a K, not a C. I’m a performance artist.” The young woman gave him a lukewarm smile.
“Fascinating.” Nicholas turned to Lucy, who looked ready to murder him. Good going, Nick, how are you supposed to seduce her now?
“I run my own kitchen up north. I assumed you wouldn’t mind a little help, since you were momentarily distracted. Have I told you that your sugar cookies are divine? They are, truly. I was wondering if we could discuss the subtle flavor profile…”
Lucy crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Mr. Klaus, while I appreciate your concern for my cookies, I can assure you I do not need any more help in my kitchen. Why don’t you sit down with a cup of cocoa, and I’ll bring you some gingerbread cookies. Nice and dark, just the way I like them.” And then Miss Lucy Anne Brewster raised her right eyebrow in an utterly patronizing manner. Nicholas simply could not help himself. He raised his eyebrow right back. Two can play at this game.
A young man rushed into the kitchen, grabbed the performance artist and began to thrust his oddly pierced tongue into her mouth.
“Oh Kandy, can you ever forgive me? Let’s get married right now. Vegas, baby, what do you say? I want our bambino to have a daddy.”
Nicholas noted that in addition to his creatively pierced face, tongue-boy also sported a nice assortment of tattoos, all of candy. Peppermints, butterscotch balls, M-and-Ms, and of course, candy canes.
“Ray, I missed you.” Miss Kane began thrusting her tongue right back at him.
Nicholas turned to Lucy. “Ray? That’s not too original.”
Lucy shrugged. “Ray, as in Ray-of-Sunshine. They’re both performance artists.” Then she tapped her assistant on the shoulder.
“Kandy, you are forbidden to leave me right now. It’s the middle of our busiest season, and I need you. You and Ray can get married after the new year.”
“But I don’t want to wait, Miss Brewster. I love him!”
Ray licked the side of his girlfriend’s face, and both Nicholas and Lucy shuddered. “Yeah, and I got tickets for us to see Celine Dion, your favorite, honey.”
Lucy let out a long-suffering sigh as Kandy bundled up in a parka, plopped on a red Santa hat, and flew out the door with the gangly boy. Nicholas bit his tongue to keep from laughing. Served the woman right for hiring such a flake in the first place.
Leaning down close to Lucy’s ear, he whispered, “Need a new assistant? I just happen to know the perfect gentleman for the job.”
Lucy slowly turned her head to stare at the infuriating man. His eyes positively gleamed with delight at her unfortunate predicament. And his lips were…well they looked delicious. Full, firm and oh so close to her mouth. She had the shocking impulse to bite down on his lower lip, and then lap at it like a kitten. What am I thinking? Get a hold of yourself, girl!
“Mr. Klaus, that is a very kind offer, but I’m sure I’ll struggle by—without you.” Then she spun on her heel and headed to the freezer in the back of the kitchen. She was trying very hard not to cry, but the truth was that Kandy just left her in the lurch, and she could really use some extra hands. However, she was not about to give Mr. Eyebrow the satisfaction of knowing any of that. She pulled several large batches of homemade pastry dough out of the freezer and spread them on the counter to thaw. Wiping the back of her hand across her teary eyes, Lucy resigned herself to a long lonely all-nighter in the kitchen. Just me, ten thousand apples, and a butt-load of bourbon.
Thank God for the bourbon.
Reluctantly, Lucy had to admit that she was envious of Kandy. Ray could not stop touching or kissing her quirky assistant. They were madly in love, and Lucy was jealous of their passionate affair. For once in her life, she would like to experience true passion with a man who adored her. For God’s sake, Luce, quit feeling sorry for yourself and get to work. You have a long night ahead of you.
“Miss Brewster, it can’t be that bad, can it?”
Lucy just about jumped out of her skin as Mr. Klaus looked down at her with a gentle smile. His smile was not judgmental, nor pitying, nor was it mean-spirited in any way. The giant baker man looked surprisingly kind.
“Not really. Just another all-nighter in the kitchen. I’ve done it before. And I’m sure I’ll do it again.”
“As have I. All great chefs lose track of time when their creative juices are flowing. Once I was on a mission to re-create a superb soufflé I tasted in Lucerne, and twenty-four hours later I finally got it. I was looking a bit bedraggled at that point, but I was thrilled with the results.”
Lucy sniffled. “What kind of soufflé?”
“Ah, well, it was a delicious and subtle mixture of cheeses. I had a hell of a time trying to ascertain the ingredients. But I finally figured out it was chèvre with a touch of Parmesan. Lightly seasoned with nutmeg. A fascinating combination.”
“Umm, that sounds great. You could go sweet or savory with that one. Add chives for a breakfast soufflé, or dried cranberries for a sw
eeter dessert.”
“Not a bad idea, Miss Brewster.” Mr. Klaus pulled a mini notebook out of his front shirt pocket, placed it on the counter, and began to scribble furiously. One hand was absentmindedly stroking his beard, while the other was writing. Lucy watched, mesmerized. His beard was thick and dark and neatly trimmed. What would it feel like? Coarse and rough, or silky smooth? Without thinking, she reached out to touch his face. Slowly she brushed the backs of her fingers down the side of his jaw. Silky, I knew it!
Mr. Klaus froze, and Lucy snatched her hand back. “Oh my goodness, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so sorry.”
“Do it again.” His voice was hoarse as he reached for her hand and brought it back up to his face. “Please.”
Lucy’s hand was shaking as she stroked his beard. “I just wanted to know…what it felt like,” she whispered in a small voice. “It’s soft.” She dropped her hand abruptly and touched her own flaming cheeks.
“I’m not usually this unprofessional. I don’t normally go around…um, well, touching my customers. Like that. Please forgive me.”
“I liked it.” Mr. Klaus’ voice was thick and low. Lucy shivered again, hugging her arms across her chest.
“And what will you feel like, I wonder?”
Lucy gazed in shock as Nicholas dragged his callused fingers along the side of her face to her chin. She closed her eyes in surrender at the delicious feel of his rough skin against her cheek. With one finger, he tilted her face toward his own. “Open your eyes, Lucy.”
She opened her eyes, stunned to find him just inches away.
“My God, you are a delectable treat. I want to eat you up with a spoon.” Mr. Klaus was breathing hard as his fingers swept across her lips. Back and forth, again and again. “I’m going to kiss you now, Miss Brewster, if that’s all right with you.”
Lucy nodded, fixated on his mouth. As Nicholas began to brush his lips softly against her own, she thought Just like in my dreams. Only better. Much better.
He tasted like Christmas. Brandy, cloves and dark molasses. His tongue was doing slippery, sexy things to her mouth that were simply unbearable. She was momentarily worried that he would notice her lack of kissing expertise. Being the sole owner of a café did not leave a lot of time for socializing, and her sum experience with men was utterly unimpressive.
“So damned good…” Nicholas murmured into her neck. Vaguely she was aware of him exploring her back, squeezing her bottom, and one giant hand cupping the back of her head. With a whimper she raised her hands and began to caress the lush beard on his face. Each of her whimpers was answered with a growl from Mr. Klaus whose straight white teeth were grazing her neck. Lucy could not believe the passion in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her with such longing. For the first time in her life she felt truly desirable.
Lucy was desperate to feel his skin. His whole body shuddered as her hands began to pull the starched button-down shirt out of his trousers.
Nicholas groaned, “Please don’t stop. I’ve dreamt of this.”
She stopped and stared up at him. “You dreamt of me? Really?”
“Hell, yes, every night for weeks. You’re driving me insane.”
“I’ve been dreaming of you, too, Nicholas.” She blushed wildly admitting her nocturnal fantasies, but Nicholas was now reverently cupping her breasts through her apron. Lucy’s legs buckled. She bumped against the counter behind her, and the basket of apples tipped over, spilling Granny Smiths all over the floor.
“Oh no! What am I doing? I must be losing my mind.”
Nicholas, looking rather disheveled and flushed, knelt down on the floor and quickly captured the rolling apples. “Don’t worry, the apples are fine. No one will ever notice a bruised apple in a pie.”
Lucy shook her head at Nicholas. “I can’t believe I’m kissing you when I hardly know you. I have a huge order to fill, my assistant just quit, and…and…well, I’m not usually like this, honestly. You are a huge distraction, Mr. Klaus. I simply can’t afford a distraction right now. I have too much work to do.” With trembling fingers, she tucked her loose curls behind one ear.
“I apologize for the distraction, but not for the kiss. The timing was poor, perhaps, but I won’t deny my attraction for you, Lucy. Later, after the work is done, we’re going to finish what we started.” Nicholas cupped her chin with his hand and forced her to look into his eyes. Lucy was shocked by the intensity of his gaze. My God, his eyes are gorgeous. Like burnished gold, burning…for me? No man has ever looked at me like that.
Lucy was shaking. Embarrassed by her blush, she turned away from Nicholas and began to stack the apples back in the basket. “I’m sorry, Mr. Klaus. I really have to get back to work.”
“Please call me Nicholas. And we definitely need to get to work. Pies, cookies, candy canes. What else do you need for tomorrow?” Lucy was astounded to see him listing ingredients on his little note pad.
“You can’t be serious. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is pull an all-nighter in my kitchen.”
“On the contrary. I’ve been on vacation for a long time, and I miss baking. I don’t have to head home until tomorrow. You’ve impressed the hell out of me in the last two weeks. Every single item I tasted from your menu has been divine. I would be honored to aid you in any way I can. Although I draw the line at puppies in the kitchen.”
Lucy laughed at his horrified expression. “No more puppies. It’s almost closing time. It’ll be just you and me and Bing Crosby on the CD player.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes. “You want to torture me, don’t you? How about Bach or Vivaldi for inspiration?”
“It’s Christmas time, Nicholas. My CD player is filled with Christmas music. Just be glad Kandy’s gone. She listened to punk rock holiday mixes and Celine Dion. She has a rather eclectic taste in music.” Lucy grinned impishly at her new assistant, and he laughed out loud. It was a deep, rich, husky sound that surprised her. She had the distinct impression that he did not laugh often.
“Well, if you really want to help out, I can offer you Kandy’s pay.”
Nicholas shook his head. “Not necessary. I’m offering as a friend. I’ll wash the Granny Smiths while you close the shop. What do you say?”
Lucy shot him a shy smile. “Thank you. It will be nice to have some company tonight.”
As soon as the last of her customers headed home, she cleared the tables and turned out the lights in the front of the store. She could hear Nicholas humming absentmindedly as he gathered the ingredients for the pies. Lucy smiled to herself. He was humming God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, one of her favorite Christmas carols. Mr. Nicholas Klaus was a fascinating combination of passion and discipline, and Lucy could not help her curious nature. That kiss was the most overwhelming, delicious and irresistible moment of her life, and she desperately hoped that Nicholas truly intended to finish what they started.
Nicholas could not in good conscience allow Miss Lucy Anne Brewster to struggle alone with her huge party order. Her seduction would have to wait just a bit longer. The sight of tears in her lovely eyes shook him to the core. He usually worked alone in the kitchen, but he found Lucy’s company very pleasant. They were a good team. He could hardly wait to celebrate later with more of her extraordinary kisses. The heat of their brief encounter was difficult to forget, but he reigned himself in, determined to finish the pies and alleviate some of her worries.
“So, Nicholas, when did you decide you were going to become a baker?”
Nicholas rolled out pastry on the cold marble counter. Although Lucy did not have the latest gadgets in her kitchen, it was well-stocked with old-fashioned equipment, like the hand-crafted rolling pin he was using.
“My earliest memories are of me in the kitchen—driving our cook mad.” He chuckled as he smoothed the dough. “He finally gave up trying to barricade me out and started to teach me how to cook. He was a wonderful instructor.”
Lucy cut leaves and apples with her copper cutters. “Did your pare
nts approve? Baking is a rather unconventional career for a man.”
Nicholas laughed. “Are you implying it’s a less-than-manly occupation, Miss Brewster? That’s not very politically correct.” He raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Lucy blushed red as a beet. “Oh no. It just seems like everyone I know wants their sons to become doctors, lawyers, or some Wall Street wiz. I think anyone who follows their passions…well, it’s wonderful to see people passionate about what they do, you know?”
One perfect corkscrew curl was dangling in front of Lucy’s lovely blue eyes, and a light dusting of flour coated her adorable nose. It took all of Nicholas’s willpower not to hop over the counter and pin her to the wall. He cleared his throat. “I completely agree. Unfortunately, the eldest son in my family is expected to follow in his father’s footsteps, and baking is not the preferred career.”
Lucy raised her head and gazed at him intently. “Are you the oldest in your family? What does your father do?”
Nicholas began his precision cuts of the pastry, forming perfect circles to line the pie tins. “I am the oldest of five brothers, and my father…well…he’s in the toy industry.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Christmas must be his busiest holiday. Do your brothers help out, too?”
“Yes, we’re all involved, including my mother. Sven is a toy designer, Gregor oversees the financial end of the business, Wolf is involved in charity donations, a big part of our operation, and my youngest brother Oskar manages our employees. We have a lot of them, and they’re quite a handful.”
“What does your mother do?”
“Um, well…our business is so large, we have an entire community built around the factories. My mother takes care of the village and basically makes sure everyone is happy. Which is not a simple job.”
