Baker's Nook Novels & Stories

My heels are kicked off under the desk, and I’m slowly sipping a cup of black tea while checking the budget sheet for the grand opening. The door opens without a knock, and Ronan walks in. He isn’t carrying his clipboard this time. Instead, he has two small brown paper bags in his hands, smelling faintly of fried dough and cinnamon from the little bakery down the street. “Peace offering,” he says, tossing one of the bags onto my desk. He drops into the leather chair opposite me, stretching his long legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “You’ve been staring at that ledger for three hours, Des. Your eyes are going to turn into little dollar signs if you don’t take a break.”

He just couldn't get in a cheery holiday mood this year. His apartment had only one small bedroom with a single bed and half pint chest of drawers. The kitchen stove was so small, he couldn't cook a pizza in the oven without tilting it at an angle. The apartment guide referred to the dining area as the dining nook. Chris referred to it as the dining "nookette". Speaking of books, he sure wished his apartment had some "nookie". It had been a long time since Chris had even gone on a date. His shyness didn't help.

Victoria's POV I could hardly contain my excitement as I unlocked the door to my brand-new bakery. The sign outside read "The Cookie Jar," and the interior was just as lively and whimsical as I had imagined. The walls were painted in pastel colors, and there were shelves filled with jars of cookies of all shapes and sizes. The smell of freshly baked goods wafted through the air, making my stomach grumble with anticipation.

Late that night, the mansion was quiet. Gabby slipped into the silent kitchen. The maids were off on Sundays, so no one was watching. She was bored of just sitting in the living room, and for some reason, the idea of baking cookies sounded like the most normal thing in the world. She opened G****e on her phone, looking for a simple recipe. She had just gathered all the ingredients on the counter when her phone vibrated. A message notification popped up. Emma Halim:

Each piece of furniture, each decoration, felt like a labor of love, carefully chosen and placed with their shared dream in mind. On weekends, they would practice recipes together, filling their cottage with the sweet scents of cinnamon rolls, buttery croissants, and chocolate tarts. Nicholas perfected his sourdough recipe, while Lillian experimented with different flavors for jams and spreads, using berries they picked from the fields on the outskirts of town. They wanted the bakery to feel like an extension of their home, a place where everyone could experience the warmth and comfort they had found in Port Haven.

You wouldn’t know it. **VesperVixen:** Try me. **quietreader87:** Port Solace. **VesperVixen:** I actually know Port Solace. I drove through there once on my way to a shoot. Cute bakery on the main road. Smelled like heaven. Noah’s heart stopped. That was his aunt’s bakery. He didn’t reply for three hours. When he finally did, his hands were shaking. **quietreader87:** That’s my aunt’s place. I work there.

The door was also made of glass and there were already food inside. "Your Majesty..." Noah whispered as he stared at the bakery. "It looks amazing!" Althea and I said. "Thank you so much," Noah said with a bow. Dad patted his shoulder then went inside. Angelo and Saint went with us inside and three guards stayed outside. "Your Majesty!" Noah's uncle called from the cashier. He immediately bowed. "I cannot be more grateful to what you have given us," He said. Noah greeted his Uncle and we wandered in the bakery. There was like a lounge in the back where employees can rest and there were only 2 employees. It’s a new opened bakery anyway. Noah's uncle prepared us some tea.

Penna yells to me. I wait on a grubby-looking bench. I play on my phone. After a while, my boredom takes me to the display case. I see dozens of clown-shaped cookies and sweet, glazed donut holes. That's when I realize I can't work here. Bakeries sell food. Food and hunger equal a meal, and a meal equals fat. I head into the bathroom of the bakery. I open the stall door. I lock the door behind me and shove my pointer and middle fingers down my throat. The vomit starts to come. The alcohol and lunch I ate all fall out of me. I don't feel well. My head is dizzy. This is stupid.

HANNAH "How about we go to a nearby bakery? They bake a new recipe today." Nora talked to me as both of us dried our wet hair. The training session was over, and we had finished showering. "Really? How do you know about that?" "My mother owns the bakery." I forgot. Nora is Poppy's daughter and the owner of the best bakery in Crescent Pack. "I'll treat you." She said again as she folded the towel she had just used into her bag.

The floor looks like it’s a warm cherry wood, and they have foam mats in front of the sinks, stoves, and a few along the counters. “Would I be able to bake in here?” Ashton pops his head up from the cutting board, a look of shock across his face. “Of course, you can! You can use anything in the pack house and save the packs individual houses you can use anything in our territory. I didn’t know you could bake though!” “I do here and there, I'm no chef, but I enjoy it.” “Then I look forward to tasting some of your creations.” “I think we left two of my favourite baking cook books back in Scotland. I don’t think that is something Cal would have thought to bring. Do you think we could get anothe