Temptation Trails - Page 147

“What a treat,” Russell said. “Thank you, Miss Harper.”

“You’re quite welcome. It’s the very least I can do.”

“We don’t mind a bit. But I won’t lie, fresh cookies make it an even more enjoyable task.”

Those two were so delightful. “We’re closing soon, and I won’t need to stay late. So you can get back to your regular lives.”

“No rush,” Stan said. “Just let us know when you’re leaving. Deputy Haven was very clear that we needed to see you all the way to your car.”

“And make sure you leave safely.”

“Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

I went to the kitchen while they went back to their patrol, cookies in hand. That made me happy. At least I felt a little less guilty about them giving up their free time to watch the bakery.

“I’m out of here.” Beth hung up her apron and took her purse down from a hook. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bye, Beth. Have a good night.”

There wasn’t much time before closing, but I’d whipped up a couple of batches of experimental cookies that afternoon. Stress baking again? Probably. I had one in the oven—a dozen fig and feta cookies with honey. Maybe a little out there for my Tilikum customers, but they smelled good.

I’d just put the other batch—blackberry almond thumbprints—in the other oven when the front door opened. I set my two timers and went out to the front to greet my customer.

A man in a suit—jacket but no tie—was standing just inside the door. His shirt collar was unbuttoned and he had neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair.

“Hi, there. Can I help you?”

He gave me a friendly smile. “Harper?”

“Yes.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Phillip. I know Garrett.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Do you work in the sheriff’s office?”

“I’m with the prosecuting attorney’s office. But we work closely with the sheriff and his crew.”

He kind of had a lawyer vibe. Sleek and professional. Well-spoken.

“So, Harper, I have a bit of a bone to pick with you.” The corners of his mouth lifted slightly and there was a hint of humor in his voice.

Still, something made my stomach twinge a little.

“Oh?”

“People keep bringing goodies from your bakery into the sheriff’s office. Half the time when I go in to meet with someone, I’m greeted by the scent of your cupcakes or cookies.” He put his hands on his middle. “It’s killing my waistline.”

I smiled. “I guess, sorry not sorry?”

“That’s fair. You’re just doing your job. It’s not your fault you do it so well.”

“Thank you. At the risk of killing your waistline a bit more, do you want anything while you’re here?”

His eyes held mine for a few seconds and that twinge in my stomach was back. Was that a pregnancy thing, or were my instincts telling me something?

I was so jumpy with everything that had been happening, I didn’t know. It felt like anyone could make me nervous at that point.

“Yes, I’d absolutely like something.” He broke eye contact and started perusing the pastry case.