Sheryl parked her new scooter about as close to the industrial door that led into the bottom level of the hotel as she could. She hung her helmet from the handlebars, because she didn’t have fancy saddlebags like Gage.
One look to her left, and she found his motorcycle gleaming in the morning sunshine, though it was barely six o’clock in the morning.
He started work earlier now than he had while working the ferry, but he was much happier. Sheryl could see it in his face, hear it in his softer bark, and feel it in his touch. The man loved to bake, and he’d only been at Heartwood as the head baker for a couple of weeks, so he was still learning all the ropes.
lovedBut Sheryl could go upstairs to the bakery and find it fully stocked at this hour. They opened at six, so the cases would be f
