The Baker by Serena Yates

was really, really serious. “Second of all, and I’m sorry to say this since I am not normally very vindictive, but I think your father deserves to be taken down a peg or two for the way he has treated, and is still treating, you and your sisters.”
    Ian nodded, the first tear fighting its way down his cheek. Yeah, as much as he hated confrontation, it was the only way to make his father understand that Ian was no longer willing to be treated like dirt. He was twenty-nine and supposed to be his own man, and it was time he stood up for himself.
    “And third of all, and this reason is a very selfish reason”—Cameron grinned and winked—“I imagine I’ll be getting some pretty spectacular cakes and stuff out of the deal. Which is also the reason, by the way, that I’ll be sharing the cost of any ingredients you may need.”
    Ian couldn’t have stopped his tears of joy if he’d tried.
    “Oh shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Cameron jumped up and came around to Ian’s side of the table. He pulled Ian up and into his arms. “I’m sorry, whatever it was I s—”
    “Not what you said.” Ian put his forehead on Cameron’s shoulder and let go while Cameron rubbed his back. God, this is embarrassing.
    “No? Well, I’m glad. But why are you crying, then?” Cameron sounded more than a little lost.
    Ian took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. Cameron quietly handed him some tissues from somewhere, and Ian wiped his face and blew his nose. Way to impress Cameron! Not!
    “Come here. Let’s sit down.” Cameron sat and pulled Ian into his lap. “Can you tell me now?”
    “I’m just so happy and relieved. I had no idea how to do all the work with no space to work in. My own father has given me nothing but grief, and here you are, practically a total stranger, and you’re offering me everything.” Ian swallowed and slid his arms around Cameron’s shoulders so he could hold on. “Thank you!”
    “Anytime, sweetheart.” Cameron smiled and caressed Ian’s back. “Anytime at all.”
    I’m so going to keep him!

Chapter Nine
     
     
    “IAN, HAVE you got a moment?” Senga’s voice from the sales room interrupted Ian’s work, and not for the first time that Monday morning.
    “Just a second.” Ian pulled the current batch of donuts out of the oil and set them on the sugared tray so they could cool a little. He’d started the process right after finishing the early, early work on the bread, in an attempt to make enough donuts for the weekly order Cameron had told him to expect each Monday. And that was just the one Cameron planned to pick up personally. Ian turned down the heat a little, then wiped his hands and walked out front.
    “Good morning.” Cameron stood there with the biggest grin on his face. “I know I’m a little early, but I wanted to thank you personally for taking such good care of my colleagues when they come in here. The entire station is abuzz with enthusiasm about your baked goods.”
    “Good morning, Mr. Lewis.” Ian grinned back. They had to be careful so his father didn’t notice how close they were, but it was actually fun to address Cameron formally. It felt a little like role-play. “I’m glad our products meet with your approval.”
    “They do.” Cameron nodded. “In fact I’d like to buy an extra cake or pie today. My partner reminded me one of our colleagues has a birthday, and it would be nice to have something special.”
    “Oh. Well, we don’t have any premade birthday cakes. We usually customize those.” Ian glanced at the cake display. There were two types of chocolate cake, an angel food cake, and some apple pie on the lower level, and their best-selling Scottish variants—oatcakes, shortbread, scones, Dundee cake, and some gingerbread—on the upper level. “But I guess I could take one of the chocolate cakes and add some birthday candles, maybe a short inscription?”
    “That would be amazing!” Cameron beamed at him. “The guy’s name is Steve,