Cappuccino Kisses. Yahrah St. John

that now. She knew it wasn’t healthy to keep looking back; she had to focus on other things. Namely, on baking all the breakfast goods that she hoped would be necessary for the morning rush. Aunt Lillian believed in providing the freshest baked products each day, so any unpurchased item was given away to a local shelter at the end of the night.

      Mariah quickly turned on the lights, grabbed her apron hanging on a hook nearby, and headed toward the kitchen to get down to business.

      Two hours later, she was wrist deep in flour when her brother Jack finally deigned to gift her with his presence. She’d already prepared the first batch of pastries, from cinnamon and pecan rolls to Danishes and croissants, for the breakfast rush. She was now starting on the triple berry, blueberry, lemon and orange scones that were a big part of their menu selection.

      “Look who finally decided to join me,” Mariah said, as he slowly made his way to the sink to wash his hands.

      “Don’t start, Ri,” he replied, using his nickname for her. When he was finished, he grabbed a paper towel and dried his hands.

      Mariah quirked her brow. “You were supposed to be here—” she glanced at her watch “—hours ago. I needed help. I haven’t even started on the muffins yet.”

      “I’m sorry, okay?” Jackson responded as he quickly grabbed several mixing bowls and ingredients for the muffins from the cabinets and refrigerator.

      She was surprised that for once he offered an apology instead of an excuse. “I presume you were with one of your admirers from the grand opening?” Mariah selected a handful of dough and set it on the already floured counter. She rolled the dough and used a scone cutter to cut out the pieces before placing them on a greased cookie sheet.

      Jackson gave her a sly smile. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

      “Well, a certain gentleman needs to set his alarm so he’s not late again. I can’t do this without you,” Mariah replied.

      “Duly noted. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

      “Nothing.”

      Jackson stopped mixing the dry ingredients and looked at his sister.

      Could he see that she hadn’t really slept that well? The strain of the previous day had caught up to Mariah. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had made her uneasy. Was it their parents’ less than enthusiastic response to the bakery opening? Or perhaps it was meeting that sexy stranger who’d caught her eye from the second she’d seen him strolling down the sidewalk, and turning down his offer of a date? Or maybe it was Shari revealing that she was pregnant yet again, when Mariah’s hopes of motherhood had been repeatedly dashed year after year during her five-year marriage? Maybe it was a combination of all three causing her lack of sleep. In any event, she’d been up with the roosters.

      “You’re frowning,” Jackson said. “Did something happen last night? Did you go out with Everett Myers?”

      Mariah spun around to face him. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

      Her brother shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe ’cause the guy was really feeling you and cock-blocked anyone from getting close to you during the party.”

      Mariah chuckled. She hadn’t realized that was what he was doing, but he had made his intentions clear, especially when he’d grasped her arm and damn near demanded she give him a tour of the bakery.

      “C’mon,” Jackson said, “I know it’s been a long time since you’ve been on that horse—the dating horse, that is—but even you can recognize a man’s interest in you.” When she didn’t respond right away, he asked, “Can’t you?”

      Mariah let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Of course I can. I’m not blind.”

      “Then why didn’t you give the brother a chance?” Jackson inquired.

      “I’m just not ready yet.”

      “Will you ever be?”

      Luckily, Mariah didn’t have to answer that question because the buzzer on the oven sounded, signaling that her second batch of pastries was ready. She scooted over to remove the delicious treats from the stove, effectively ending their conversation.

      They didn’t have a chance to pick up where they left off because their third baker arrived. Nancy Alvarez was a middle-aged woman with a background in the bakery business, and she knew her stuff. It had taken some convincing to talk Nancy into working for them, but once Mariah had sweetened the deal by making it part-time, with Mariah taking the early morning shift, she’d acquiesced.

      Among the three of them, they were able to get a lot accomplished, and were ready to open their doors at 7:00 a.m. for the breakfast rush.

      Since she’d been the first to arrive, Mariah left Jackson and Nancy in the kitchen while she attended to the front of the house. Customers slowly trickled in, wanting delicious baked goods, but eventually business took off and the morning sped by.

      Mariah was surprised when Jackson came to relieve her for a short break, so she could get off her feet and have a cup of much-needed coffee.

      Mariah went into the office and took a seat. She pulled off her comfortable flats and rubbed her aching arches. She hadn’t truly realized just how exhausting running a bakery could be, affecting not just her sleeping routine, but her feet.

      Owning and operating a bakery was hard work. The hours were long and the work tiring, but Mariah believed without risk there would be no reward.

      Chase hadn’t arrived yet. He typically didn’t show up until 9:00 a.m., and Mariah envied his banker’s hours from nine to five. He’d soon be scouring the pile of bills she’d seen sitting on his desk—invoices for the inventory of ingredients and equipment that it took to run Lillian’s. Money was constantly going out and they would need to start pouring some back in to ensure the firm’s viability.

      She was leaning back in the chair, strategizing on an advertising campaign that would help boost business, when Jackson poked his head into the room. “You have a visitor.”

      “Who is it?” she asked, looking up, but he was already gone.

      Mariah sighed. She didn’t have time for visitors. She needed to come up with a plan to get Lillian’s name out there. The reporter yesterday had been right when he’d indicated that Sweetness Bakery had a solid and long-standing reputation in Seattle and it would be hard to compete against them. But Mariah knew Lillian’s recipes were superior and that eventually they would succeed.

      Slipping her flats back on, she rose from her desk. After checking herself in the mirror that she’d installed in the office to ensure she would always be respectable before greeting the public, she headed out of the room.

      When she made it to the storefront area, only a handful of customers were munching on their baked goods at the small countertop and bank of tables. Most were probably enjoying the free Wi-Fi Lillian’s offered.

      Jackson gave her a wink as he dealt with a customer at the register. “He’s over there.” Her brother inclined his head toward the far side of the store.

      Mariah noticed a man kneeling in front of the display there, but she couldn’t tell who it was. But as she approached and he rose to his feet, there was no mistaking the visitor’s identity. It was none other than Everett Myers.

      Fortifying herself and letting a rush of air out her lungs, Mariah walked toward the counter. “Good morning,” she said with a smile. “May I help you?”

      He returned the smile. “Good morning, Mariah.”

      “Mr. Myers, what can I get for you this morning?” she asked, purposely using his last name as she turned around. She grasped two plastic gloves and opened the display case.

      He looked down at the pastries and then back up at her, penetrating her with his dark gaze. “Everything looks good.”

      The way he was gazing at her with