The Baker Read Free Page B

Steve’s information had proven to be accurate; surprisingly it had happened by the afternoon. Chief Bullock had called a meeting and proceeded to announce his retirement. There was even a local news crew filming it all. The chief gave a brief outline of the steps planned to find his successor, and it sounded rigorous to Cameron. The city would advertise the vacancy regionally, Chief Bullock and a yet-to-be-determined law enforcement organization would select the candidates from that pool, and a set of stringent panel interviews would follow. Cameron quietly wished whoever was selected good luck. He was ambitious, and one day he might climb the ranks high enough to be considered, but a sergeant, no matter if he also was a lieutenant in the Marines, was not going to make the cut.
    By the end of the workday, Cameron had made good headway on most of the cases he was involved in. Due to the nature of his job, a lot of it consisted of paperwork and following up on issues his detectives had discovered, but he enjoyed making their jobs easier. As far as he was concerned, anything that helped them made life for the criminals harder—and that was what really counted.
    Cameron checked the clock on his laptop. Shit, it was almost six. He had no idea what the opening hours of his new favorite bakery were, but he had a feeling he might already be too late. After all, they’d been open since early this morning, and his baker was unlikely to work there all the time. Still, he was going to try.
    Cameron had rarely locked down his computer, desk, and office that quickly, and he practically sprinted out of the building without looking left or right, all to avoid someone grabbing him for a quick discussion or something. He made it to the bakery in record time, and as he walked up, the cute baker— still here, thank God —was just about to turn the old-fashioned Open sign to Closed.
    The man’s eyes widened, and he froze in his tracks.
    Cameron stopped moving about three feet away from the glass door, hoping he hadn’t shocked the guy too much.
    The baker swallowed, raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, as if to ask whether Cameron wanted to talk to him.
    Cameron nodded, carefully making sure he didn’t move so as not to spook the guy any more than he already had.
    The baker pulled a bunch of keys from his white jacket and unlocked the door. Then he stepped back, inviting Cameron inside, but stared at him as if he were seeing a ghost.
    “Thank you.” Cameron walked inside so they could talk but stayed right by the door after clicking it shut behind him. He wasn’t sure of his welcome, so thought it best to be careful and take his cues from the baker.
    “I’m sorry, we’re closed, so I can’t sell you anything.” A small smile quirked the baker’s lips. “And I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with the law.”
    “No, indeed not.” Cameron laughed. Cute and a sense of humor, perfect. He was about to mention his handcuffs, but that might be a little much, considering how shy the baker seemed to be. Also, Cameron wasn’t yet sure the man was gay, so he’d better play it safe for now.
    “What can I do for you?” The baker looked a little less shocked with some color having returned to his cheeks.
    “I’m hoping you’ll agree to have an early dinner with me.” Cameron watched the shock return to the baker’s face. He looked as though he was about to faint. Had he never been asked on a date before? “It’s too bad you don’t have a coffee corner at the bakery here that’s open later than the store. But there’s a pretty good Italian restaurant about two blocks north of here on West 2nd Street called Botticelli. I’ve eaten there before, and the food is good. Monday is pasta night. Maybe we could go there?”
    “Why?” The baker’s eyes were wide enough to make Cameron worry he might faint after all.
    “What do you mean why? I’d like to chat, maybe talk about your black buns and the other amazing things you