still couldn’t keep his eyes from rolling back in his head. God, it was good. While it didn’t quite scratch the itch he’d been having all night long, it did warm him and mellow him out. The sting of rejection faded fast under the onslaught of the liquid chocolate.
Speaking of chocolate... he was about halfway through his drink when something new hit his nose. Sweet, a little spicy, all male with a lovely chocolate undertone. He looked up, eyes searching for whoever it was who smelled so intriguing.
“Hey, Betsy.” The voice, belonging to a very nice-looking man dressed in chef’s whites, was a lovely timbre, settling as nicely on Dayton’s ears as the smells had on his nose.
“Connor.” Betsy nodded to the newcomer. She didn’t give him any more attention than that, which allowed Dayton to observe as this Connor made his way along the counter and then into the kitchen.
Connor was fair -- hair and skin -- and slim. If Dayton’s eyes weren’t fooling him, the man was also green-eyed, and his hair was an almost-brown red. As he’d already observed, Connor was decently built, thigh muscles on display through the white pants as Connor walked.
The scent that had first caught his attention grew stronger as Connor came nearer, and then faded slowly away once the man was in the kitchen.
This had to be the new baker Dayton had heard rumblings about. Of course ‘new’ meant that the man had been in town for some time now. Almost a year, he thought. It was too bad he’d never noticed before now, because gossip also told him that Connor was gay. Dayton had always assumed the man was in his fifties and a little plump from eating his own wares. He wasn’t sure why he’d made that assumption, maybe because his father had been a baker, so Dayton associated the job with older guys.
He knew Connor worked out of the diner, so how come he’d never actually seen the man before now?
Tempted as he was to stay and figure it out, about a half hour later he was not only finished with his hot chocolate, but the place was starting to fill up. Okay, two customers had come in, but that was two more than he wanted to deal with. He did check out the baked goods counter that had gone in next to the counter by the door when the baker had started working. Dayton had never checked it out before. Bread, pies, cakes, cookies, and pastries. And they looked pretty damn good at that.
“Huh.” With that single grunt, he let himself out and headed for his bike, promising himself he’d try to find out more about this Connor before he needed his next chocolate fix.
Everyone Loves a Bad Boy
Connor parked his little red Mini Cooper behind the diner and shook his head when he saw the junk still piled up by the back door. Two weeks ago Bill Deans, owner of the Silver Kitchen Diner, had promised him the garbage blocking the back door would be removed, and it was still there.
He knew part of the problem was that he was the only one who’d complained and because Deans didn’t approve of Connor’s “lifestyle,” he was going to drag his feet on any requests Connor made, including this one. Connor had a half a mind to call the fire inspector -- this wasn’t just an inconvenience for him to have to go around to the front to let himself in, it was a fire hazard. If he had to get out of the kitchen in an emergency, he wasn’t going to be able to do it out the back door. Nor was anyone else -- employees and customers alike.
Deciding to give Deans one more chance before siccing the fire inspector on him, Connor opened his cell phone and called the owner on the spot. Deans wasn’t going to appreciate being woken at four a.m., but maybe that would get it through his thick skull that Connor wasn’t fooling around here -- the diner’s back door needed to be accessible.
Deans finally picked up after the sixth ring. “Huh? Whu?”
“It’s Connor Griffins. There’s still two tons of garbage blocking the back door of the diner. If it