The Little Village Bakery: A feel good romantic comedy with plenty of cake (Honeybourne Book 1) Read Free

you.’
    Jasmine raised her eyebrows. ‘I think we established a long time ago that I’m not like other people.’
    ‘That’s true, my sweetness.’ Rich bounded across the kitchen and caught her in his arms again. ‘And that’s why I love you.’
    Jasmine giggled as she kissed him. ‘Nutter.’

    M illie sneezed as she brushed a cobweb away from her hair and gazed around the dreary room. She felt sticky all over from the damp heat blowing through the open window. The sun was beginning to sink now, but the evening was still sultry. No wash-down in the cracked old sink that served as her luxury bathroom yet though, at least not until she had cleaned it, turfed out the huge spider (any creature that big should be paying council tax) and got the water back on. When she had seen the old bakery for sale online, it had seemed like the perfect move for her, but now she didn’t feel so sure. Her judgement wasn’t always sound, at least, not lately. Perhaps she should have come to view the place before she bought it… She looked around the bare walls and cracked ceiling – had the tarot cards got it wrong? This certainly didn’t look like the place for a successful new start. And she hadn’t even dared to look at the ovens that she’d need in order to make a living yet. She let out a huge sigh.
    ‘I’m here now,’ she announced to the empty room, ‘so I suppose I’ll just have to make the best of it.’
    Idly, with the toe of her ballet pump, she traced a circle in the dust of the old tiled floor and then stepped into it. Was Honeybourne somewhere she could be safe? She glanced at the pile of boxes lined up against the wall. She might not be able to locate all the things she needed to settle down for the night, lost as they were in the bottom of various unopened boxes, but she could locate the nearest supermarket, as she had passed it in the van that morning. A bottle of wine with a sandwich felt like a good idea. Grabbing her keys, she headed for the door.
    Just as she was locking up, a deep voice hailed her. ‘Evening.’
    Millie looked up to see a man, somewhere in his mid-twenties, dressed casually in a pair of loose jeans and grey T-shirt, smiling down at her. He looked familiar, although she couldn’t say why – something in his smile and the natural, fearless warmth of his gaze.
    ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump,’ he said apologetically. ‘I noticed your van outside earlier and wondered if someone had moved in. I was going to knock, but you beat me to it by coming out. I live just over there, you see…’ He pointed across the green, past a small duck pond. Millie followed his finger to a tiny stone cottage.
    ‘The little white place?’ she asked.
    ‘That’s the one.’
    ‘Just you?’
    ‘Oh yes. It’s so small I struggle to fit a broom in there with me, let alone other human beings.’
    Millie smiled politely but offered no reply.
    ‘I suppose I should let you get on then…’ the man added awkwardly, clearly sensing Millie’s reluctance to engage in any meaningful conversation.
    ‘I’m sorry, I’m very tired and I really need to get some food before I pass out.’
    ‘The supermarket’s miles away. There’s a convenience store a bit closer. Or I could bring you something over to see you through until morning? It’d be no trouble.’
    ‘I’d rather get my own, if you don’t mind.’
    ‘Of course…’ He hesitated. ‘Or you could come over… for a welcome drink and a sandwich. I mean, I can’t promise cordon bleu but—’
    Millie stopped him with a hand in the air. ‘Really, it’s very kind but I’ve got so much to do here still…’
    ‘Right, sure. Well, if you need anything, I’m just over there. Don’t worry about disturbing me, just knock any time.’
    ‘Thanks. I will.’
    He gave her a little nod of the head that was almost like an old-fashioned bow. ‘Don’t forget now.’
    ‘I won’t.’
    Without another word, Millie pocketed the bakery keys and walked