Houston and 2626 Brenner Drive in Dallas,” Smith said.
The Dallas address wasn’t far. He’d look it up on Google and pinpoint the exact location. “Got it.”
“Report back as soon as you know what’s in there.”
“Will do, Chief.”
He ended the call and turned to Sadie. Big green eyes stared back at him. The hurt, loneliness and disbelief he saw there was a knife to his chest. He wanted to take it all away. Make her world safe again.
The only way to do that was to make sure Malcolm Grimes didn’t hurt her again.
Protecting Sadie just became his number one priority.
Chapter Nine
Evening had fallen quickly. Now, after everyone had said their good-nights and the house was dark, everything was quiet, save for the crickets chirping outside Sadie’s window in the middle of the night. The stillness reminded her of the lake house. The place had been eerie when she’d first moved from the city. There was no hustle and bustle. No horns honking. No sounds of the L train running. Everything about living in Creek Bend had felt foreign because of her Chicago upbringing.
And yet, she’d felt an almost instant connection to the place. To the people. To the slower pace.
Sadie rolled onto her left side and glanced at the alarm clock again. A whopping three minutes had passed since the last time she’d checked.
She didn’t even bother to close her eyes again. Wouldn’t do any good. They’d just bounce open again, anyway. The winds had kicked up and there was a storm brewing outside.
It was four in the morning. Normally she’d be leaving the house for work at this time. An ache pressed into her chest. The small bakery had become her second home. She missed everything about it. The smell of dough leavening. The first sip of coffee she took once inside the quiet shop. All the little tasks that added up to a productive day.
Working in the bakery made her feel as though she contributed something positive to the world. There was something primal and satisfying about feeding people.
And having a routine. She missed the comfort of a schedule.
The wind outside howled. A gust slammed into the window. Her gasp made Boomer stir.
It’s only the wind.
Her morning coffee ritual would have already started. Wouldn’t she kill for a double shot latte with extra foam about now?
She missed the feel of dough in her hands. The weight of it. The warmth.
She always started by mixing and weighing it. Baguettes were first, and then the sourdoughs since they took the longest to ferment. As Claire neared her due date, there had been only one specialty bread on the menu. A mini cranberry panettone.
Another blast of wind rocketed and a dark shadow crossed her window.
A tree branch. It’s only a tree branch.
While dough mixed, she’d hand-laminated croissants for the day, rolled out tart shells and mixed muffins and cookies. Some breads needed to be knocked back as much as three times before being left to ferment until just right for scaling. Each loaf had to weigh an equal amount, or they wouldn’t bake at the same rate.
Tap, tap, tap on the window.
Raindrops finally fell.
The timer had become her new best friend. She’d learned that small batch bread-baking was so much about timing. Ten minutes early or twenty minutes late made a huge difference in the quality of what came out of the oven.
So much in life was about timing.
By now, Sadie would have been preheating the ovens. Helping wake the town with handmade treats after it had been so good to her felt right. After all, there were no strangers in Creek Bend, or so they’d said. At first, she’d thought it was their way of being nosy. She soon realized, they’d meant it. Neighbors popped in to check on her and see if she needed anything. When she’d brought Boomer home, it wasn’t long before baskets of treats with cards started showing up on her doorstep.
Her heart ached for the friendly faces she’d never see again.
Time to move on.
On her agenda?
A new town. A
The Dallas address wasn’t far. He’d look it up on Google and pinpoint the exact location. “Got it.”
“Report back as soon as you know what’s in there.”
“Will do, Chief.”
He ended the call and turned to Sadie. Big green eyes stared back at him. The hurt, loneliness and disbelief he saw there was a knife to his chest. He wanted to take it all away. Make her world safe again.
The only way to do that was to make sure Malcolm Grimes didn’t hurt her again.
Protecting Sadie just became his number one priority.
Chapter Nine
Evening had fallen quickly. Now, after everyone had said their good-nights and the house was dark, everything was quiet, save for the crickets chirping outside Sadie’s window in the middle of the night. The stillness reminded her of the lake house. The place had been eerie when she’d first moved from the city. There was no hustle and bustle. No horns honking. No sounds of the L train running. Everything about living in Creek Bend had felt foreign because of her Chicago upbringing.
And yet, she’d felt an almost instant connection to the place. To the people. To the slower pace.
Sadie rolled onto her left side and glanced at the alarm clock again. A whopping three minutes had passed since the last time she’d checked.
She didn’t even bother to close her eyes again. Wouldn’t do any good. They’d just bounce open again, anyway. The winds had kicked up and there was a storm brewing outside.
It was four in the morning. Normally she’d be leaving the house for work at this time. An ache pressed into her chest. The small bakery had become her second home. She missed everything about it. The smell of dough leavening. The first sip of coffee she took once inside the quiet shop. All the little tasks that added up to a productive day.
Working in the bakery made her feel as though she contributed something positive to the world. There was something primal and satisfying about feeding people.
And having a routine. She missed the comfort of a schedule.
The wind outside howled. A gust slammed into the window. Her gasp made Boomer stir.
It’s only the wind.
Her morning coffee ritual would have already started. Wouldn’t she kill for a double shot latte with extra foam about now?
She missed the feel of dough in her hands. The weight of it. The warmth.
She always started by mixing and weighing it. Baguettes were first, and then the sourdoughs since they took the longest to ferment. As Claire neared her due date, there had been only one specialty bread on the menu. A mini cranberry panettone.
Another blast of wind rocketed and a dark shadow crossed her window.
A tree branch. It’s only a tree branch.
While dough mixed, she’d hand-laminated croissants for the day, rolled out tart shells and mixed muffins and cookies. Some breads needed to be knocked back as much as three times before being left to ferment until just right for scaling. Each loaf had to weigh an equal amount, or they wouldn’t bake at the same rate.
Tap, tap, tap on the window.
Raindrops finally fell.
The timer had become her new best friend. She’d learned that small batch bread-baking was so much about timing. Ten minutes early or twenty minutes late made a huge difference in the quality of what came out of the oven.
So much in life was about timing.
By now, Sadie would have been preheating the ovens. Helping wake the town with handmade treats after it had been so good to her felt right. After all, there were no strangers in Creek Bend, or so they’d said. At first, she’d thought it was their way of being nosy. She soon realized, they’d meant it. Neighbors popped in to check on her and see if she needed anything. When she’d brought Boomer home, it wasn’t long before baskets of treats with cards started showing up on her doorstep.
Her heart ached for the friendly faces she’d never see again.
Time to move on.
On her agenda?
A new town. A
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