Charlie shrugged, shifting slightly away so he would stop touching her. “Just burned some of the sourdough.”
“That’s not like you,” Brett said. Then, more quietly, “I’m sure you’re upset about last night. But I’m not mad, babe.”
She somehow held back the flurry of things she would have liked to unleash on Brett. “I’m good. Better than good, actually. I’m fantastic.”
Charlie moved behind the bakery counter and away from Brett, opening one of the cardboard boxes. “I need to pack this up for the crew. Hey, Jake?” she called out. He popped his head back through the doorway. “A little of everything?”
Jake nodded, walking back inside. “That would be great.”
Brett seemed oblivious to Charlie’s disdain and made no move to get out of her way. Charlie had strict rules about her workspace, and she knew Cass was the same; they had been well taught by their father. “A chef’s domain should always be free of clutter, mess, and anyone who doesn’t understand the art of the work,” Thomas Goodwin liked to say. Though he had worked in top-ranked Zagat restaurants before they were born, their dad always seemed happy with small-town life, much like Cass.
Now Brett stood behind Charlie, peering into the ovens, then at the blackened loaves in the sink. He whistled. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse than some burned bread.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Charlie tried to tune Brett out, concentrating instead on filling the box for the hot firefighter standing in front of her, whose presence she found highly distracting. What was the matter with her? She wasn’t usually so unfocused. She lived in L.A., where all you had to do was throw a pebble and you’d hit a half-dozen attractive actors.
“I’m surprised you didn’t smell the smoke,” Brett said, and Charlie wished he would go back to whatever it was he was doing before he arrived at the bakery and leave her—and Cass—alone. Ideally forever.
“Well, I was . . . taking the cat for a quick walk before the bakery opened,” she replied, swallowing hard. The fact that she still couldn’t smell or taste anything was a worrisome reminder about what had happened and why she was here in the first place.
Jake laughed. “You took Gateau out for a walk? In the snow?”
“Cats need walks, too.” He knew Cass’s cat’s name was Gateau? Why had Cass never mentioned Jake? He was definitely worth mentioning. “Pet obesity is a real problem, you know.”
Jake held up his hands at her tone. “You don’t have to tell me. Bonnie’s on a diet right now.”
“Bonnie?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, Bonnie. My Lab?” Jake tilted his head, giving Charlie a curious look.
“Of course. How could I forget Bonnie?” Charlie focused on arranging the baked goods in the box.
“The vet said she needs to lose a few pounds for her joints, so no more lemon squares for her. Gran has been sharing them a bit too liberally,” Jake said.
“Cass and I were talking about getting a rescue.” Brett helped himself to one of the chocolate chip cookies, straight out of the box Charlie was packing up. She wanted to slap his hand away. “But we would need something nonshedding. Nothing worse than dog hair all over the furniture.”
“You get used to it.” Jake shrugged. “Just need a good vacuum.”
“Here you go,” Charlie said, handing the box of treats to Jake. The rest of the department was already back on the truck waiting for him. “Thanks again.”
“It’s our job, but you’re welcome,” Jake said.
“Yeah. Thanks, man.” Brett slapped Jake on the shoulder. He had to reach up slightly as Jake was a solid few inches taller than him. “See you tomorrow at ten?”
“For sure.” Jake nodded. Charlie wondered what they were referring to. It was only day one of pretending to be Cass and she was overwhelmed. How was she going to pull this off for the rest of the week?
Brett leaned in to kiss Charlie, but she turned her head when she realized what was happening, so his lips landed somewhere around her jaw. There was an awkward moment of silence, but Brett recovered quickly, saying, “Bye, babe. I’ll come back and check on you later.”
She murmured, “No need,” but Brett was already out the door. Charlie exhaled loudly. She looked behind her at the blackened loaves and pressed a hand to her forehead.
Jake gave her a sympathetic look. “Hey, maybe don’t take Gateau out for a walk while you have bread in the oven? And you might want to double-check all those oven timers again. Just to be safe.”