Heat: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 1) Read online

  "Ex," Annabeth said in exasperation. "But in denial about it." She sighed and forced herself to smile. "Sorry, Mark, we are now out of cinnamon rolls, and I won't be able to make any more until the power's back on."

  A groan rippled down the line of remaining people at the news.

  "…but I do have lemon bars and brownies, baked fresh this morning. And plenty of coffee."

  Her cellphone buzzed again just as a couple of people left the line, looking disappointed. She glared at it, irritated by Roger's harassment.

  As the departing customers opened the door to exit the bakery, Annabeth saw a small dog trot in.

  "Excuse me," she said to Mark and dashed around the corner to shoo out the pup.

  He went, but she saw him sitting right next to the door and wondered if his owner was one of the customers sitting at the tables.

  Her landline rang. With a feeling of dread, Annabeth answered it, wishing the ancient rotary-dial phone had Caller ID.

  "Good morn—" she began.

  "Bethie, don't you dare hang—" snarled Roger.

  Annabeth hung up.

  All right, I don't care if I can afford it or not, I'm going shopping for a Caller ID-enabled landline phone as soon as the bakery closes today.

  She finally got Evan and Mark their coffees to go, apologizing profusely for the interruptions.

  With a wistful glance at his brother's paper bag, Mark settled for a couple of lemon bars, and Evan paid for both of them.

  As they left, the little dog dashed back inside. Annabeth shooed him back out and turned her attention to her next customer.

  It was a woman Annabeth didn't recognize, probably a tourist.

  She had bright henna-red hair in a stylish bob and was wearing a lot of makeup and an expensive yoga outfit. The nail polish of her manicure matched her lipstick perfectly.

  "Good morning," Annabeth said. "How may I help you?"

  She ignored the phone as it began to ring again.

  The woman looked around with pursed lips at the meager selection in the display case. "No organic, gluten-free pastries?"

  "I’m sorry, but we don't carry any gluten-free items at this time," Annabeth said. "But I use local eggs and hormone-free butter," she added.

  "I see," the woman said. Her expression implied she found Annabeth's answer inadequate.

  Annabeth looked down and saw the woman was holding the leash of a mid-sized border collie.

  "I'm sorry, but no pets are allowed inside the bakery. It's the law," she added, apologetically.

  "Argus is not a pet," the woman informed her frostily. "He's an emotional support animal. I have a certificate, from the emotional support animal registry website!"

  Annabeth sighed, too tired to argue. And unsure whether ADA covered access for emotional support animals who came with certificates.

  "Well, how about your coffee?" demanded the woman. "Is it at fair-trade? Shade-grown?"

  The man standing next to her, Bill Hawkins, who managed the hardware store, rolled his eyes at the question.

  "I have no idea, ma'am," Annabeth said honestly.

  The bakery phone rang again. This time, Annabeth ignored it. It could go to voicemail.

  The woman sniffed in disdain.

  "Well then, I guess there's nothing here I can eat or drink," she declared in ringing tones.

  As she turned on her heel and prepared to march out of the bakery, Annabeth overheard Bill mutter, "Good, there'll be more for us, then."

  The woman opened the door, giving the small dog waiting just outside the opportunity to dart back inside.

  Argus growled at the smaller dog, which growled back. And then the small dog snapped at Argus. Argus lunged forward, teeth bared, and a cacophony of barks and growls filled the bakery.

  The phone began ringing again. Five rings, pause for voicemail. Five rings, pause for voicemail. Rinse, lather, repeat.

  Roger really wanted to talk to her. Annabeth felt like screaming.

  "Stop it!" shrieked the woman. "Make him stop! He's hurting Argus!"

  Bill moved to help her, catching the smaller dog by its collar. The woman bent, scooped up the cowering Argus, and ran out of the bakery.

  "What the hell is an emotional support dog?" Bill Hawkins asked a couple of minutes later as Annabeth wrapped up a lemon bar to go and poured him his usual coffee.

  The Airpot sputtered, indicating it was nearly empty. And with the power out, she wouldn't be able to brew any more.

  "I have no idea," Annabeth said, feeling frazzled. "But I'm glad she left."

  As Bill left, she looked around for the little dog, ready to shoo him out of the bakery yet again.

  But he had vanished. Maybe Argus the Emotional Support dog scared him off, and he's gone for good…

  The bakery phone was still ringing. Roger apparently had nothing better to do today than harass her.

  Annabeth heaved a sigh and tried to ignore the persistent sound as her doorbell chimed.

  She looked up to see a middle-aged woman with long silver-gray hair braided and wrapped around her head in a coronet, tailed closely by Dane and a tall, athletic-looking dark-haired young woman who bore a distinct resemblance to Dane.

  The older woman was carrying a clipboard.

  The woman stopped inside the bakery and took a long look around. Then she ignored the line of waiting customers and walked up to the non-functioning register.

  "Good morning," she said. "Are you Annabeth Jones, the owner of this bakery?"

  Annabeth felt a pang of apprehension at the woman's crisp tone—and official-looking clipboard. She nodded and extended her hand. "Yes, I am."

  The woman shook it, and the axe of doom fell. "I'm Diane Felsbach, with the county Department of Health. I'm here to perform the annual inspection of your facility."

  Chapter 6 – Inspected

  Annabeth felt panic racing through her as she remembered the buttercream languishing in the mixer bowls and the fact that both the refrigerator and the freezer had been without power for three hours now.

  "I've been trying to call you. I wanted to bring my cousin Kayla by, but then I saw that Diane was in town," Dane said.

  His sympathetic expression only made Annabeth feel worse.

  "Hi Annabeth!" Kayla said brightly. "Have we come at a bad time?"

    

  The first part of the inspection wasn't actually as bad as Annabeth had been dreading.

  She had been a certified Food Safety Manager in San Francisco County for years and was able to answer all of Diane's questions about hygiene and temperature controls and to point to her current food safety certificate, framed and mounted on the wall behind the register.

  The bakery had a handwashing sink right below the certificates, with soap in the dispenser and plenty of paper towels as well as a box of food service gloves, so Annabeth knew that she would easily pass that part of the inspection.

  Then came the bad part, when Annabeth had to tell Diane about her power outage this morning.

  "And you still opened for business?" Diane asked, her dark brows rising as she walked to the back of the bakery, stopping to inspect the dishwasher/sanitizer unit and the dishwashing sink.

  She checked off items on her inspection list.

  "Well, the pastries were already baked, and the coffee was ready when the power went out," Annabeth said. "My morning turnover is always high, and so I didn't think any of those things was going to be sitting around for very long."

  "Hm." Diane made a note and kept walking.

  "You're not planning to bake and serve any of these items, are you?" asked Diane, coming to a halt in front of the mixers, her pen poised over her clipboard. "How long have they been at room temperature?"

  Annabeth shook her head. "About three hours. I just haven't had the chance to dump them yet."

  "Good answer. If you dispose of them before I leave the premises, I won't note it in the inspection checklist." Diane scribbled something, and Annabeth breathed a sigh of
relief.

  "And have you used any products from the refrigerator or freezer since the power went out?"

  Annabeth shook her head, bracing herself for the news that she would have to throw everything out. "I've kept the doors closed, so I'm hoping that they're still cold enough."

  Both the fridge and the freezer had external digital displays for the temperature, which of course meant that they had gone dark when the power went out.

  "Well, I'll have to open the doors to take temperature readings," Diane said, looking sympathetic. "You may not have to toss anything if they are still within the acceptable temperature range…that's assuming you get the power turned on again, quickly."

  "Thank you," Annabeth said, pleasantly surprised.

  "Look, I know stuff happens," Diane said, still sympathetic. "And from what I've seen so far, your premises look clean, your HAACP plan looks good, and you appear to be generally following good food safety practices." She paused and said more gently. "But I think you know that you're going to have to close your business until you get the power back on."

  Annabeth nodded, her heart sinking at the idea of losing sales when she didn't even know how much the repairs were going to cost her.

  "We'll have the power back on before the end of the day," Dane said confidently.

  He had followed them behind the counter and had been silently observing the course of the inspection.

  Meanwhile, Kayla had seated herself at an empty table in the now-deserted café area and pulled out her phone to keep herself occupied until the inspection was over.

  "I'll be in Bearpaw Ridge until tomorrow afternoon," Diane told him. "If you really can get the power back on, and if Annabeth is willing to dispose of anything that got outside the safe temperature zones, starting with the stuff in those mixers, I'd be willing reinspect the bakery before I leave."

  "Oh, thank you," Annabeth breathed.

  Diane smiled. "I know a lot of restaurant owners think we're ogres, but we just want to make sure that food is safe to eat. We're willing to work with you if you're willing to correct any violations."

  Then the small dog who had been so pesky earlier in the morning emerged from behind a rolling rack and danced happy circles around Diane's feet, sniffing at her ankles and wagging his tail furiously.

  The bakery phone resumed ringing.

  Diane came to a halt in front of the big stainless steel refrigerator and frowned down at the dog. "Is this your dog?"

  Annabeth shook her head.

  "No, I've never seen him before," she said, afraid that Diane wouldn't believe her. "He's been hanging around the bakery all morning, and I keep having to chase him out."

  "Hm. You do know that no animals except for service animals are allowed in bars and restaurants?"

  Annabeth nodded. "I've been trying to keep him out, but he keeps coming back inside anytime someone opens the front door."

  Dane reached down and scooped up the dog. He looked at the metal tag attached to the collar.

  "Thought I recognized you, you little monster," he said playfully. "It's Alfie, Mrs. Granderson's dog. He's an escape artist and manages to get out of her yard at least once a week. I'll drop him off at the Granderson place as soon as you're done here."

  Diane sighed and shook her head but didn't say anything…or write anything on her checklist, to Annabeth's relief.

  "I’m going to verify the refrigerator and freezer temps now, and then I'm going to halt the inspection until tomorrow," Diane told her. "As of right now, your bakery is closed for business, and I don't want you to serve any food or beverages until I've had a chance to do another inspection." She handed Annabeth a business card. "If for some reason you can't get the power back on in the next two hours, I want you to call me and let me know. Right now, if I find that your refrigerator and freezer have gotten warmer than the allowable temperature range—"

  "I know," Annabeth said sadly. "I'll dump everything."

  "Okay. Let's get this done, and then I'll go pounce on my next unsuspecting victim," Diane said with a wry smile.

    

  When Diane had departed, heading for The Bear's Lair Pizza & Pasta across the street, Dane put a sympathetic hand on Annabeth's shoulder.

  "Hey, don’t look so worried. It's gonna be okay," he told her. "If we can get the power back on, you won't have to throw anything out."

  Even through her clothing, his touch felt electric.

  Annabeth turned to Dane, who still had Alfie tucked in the crook of his muscled arm. The dog was looking up at him adoringly.

  "But how am I going to get everything fixed in time?" she asked in despair. "I mean, I'm grateful for your help with Alfie." The dog wriggled eagerly at the sound of his name. "But in my experience, it usually takes at least a day to even get someone to come out to look at the problem. That's time I don't have, not if I'm going to save the stuff in my refrigerator and freezer."

  He squeezed her shoulder.

  "No problem," he said confidently. "It just so happens that Fred Barker, who adores your cinnamon rolls, is a volunteer firefighter. He's also a licensed electrician. I'll give him a call right now and let him know that your bakery is out of commission and it's an emergency."

  "You really are my hero!" Annabeth said, grateful but secretly dreading how much the repairs might cost.

  The look that Dane gave her in response fairly sizzled the air between them. Annabeth took a half-step toward him.

  Then the bakery's phone started ringing again. Annabeth stared at it in despair. Wouldn't Roger ever stop calling her?

  Dane looked at her. "Do you mind?" he asked quietly.

  She shook her head.

  "Cinnamon + Sugar Bakery," he said cheerfully into the phone. A pause. "She's not available right now. Can I help you with something?" Another pause. "Me? I'm her boyfriend, and you're interrupting us, if you know what I mean. Who are you?"

  Dane laughed at Annabeth's open-mouthed expression as he hung up.

  "Evan told me that some guy named Roger wouldn't stop calling you this morning. I guess now he won't be calling back anytime soon."

  Chapter 7 – Saved

  Dane was a miracle worker. He made the call to his electrician friend, as promised, and whisked the troublesome Alfie away.

  Fred Barker arrived at the bakery within a short time, coinciding with Dane's return from Mrs. Granderson's home minus a small dog.

  By that time, Annabeth had managed to scrape out the ruined buttercream frosting into the trash and was tackling the cupcake batter, which was in the Hobart's large, unwieldy mixing bowl.

  Dane immediately came to her assistance, effortlessly lifting and tipping the bowl's contents into the trash bin while she scraped it out with a large silicone spatula.

  Just how strong is he? Annabeth wondered, admiring the play of muscles in his shoulders and arms.

  "Annabeth, this is Fred Barker," Dane said, setting the bowl down.

  Annabeth had already recognized the pleasant-looking older man as one of her Tuesday morning breakfast regulars. And he usually came to the bakery on Wednesdays and Fridays when it was his turn to sleep overnight at the fire station.

  "I'm really glad to see you, Mr. Barker," she said, extending her hand.

  He took it and gave it a firm shake. "Call me Fred." He looked around the bakery as if taking note of each piece of equipment. "Dane told me you were having a bit of a problem with your power. Let's see what I can do for you."

  "I appreciate that," Annabeth said.

  Fred made a beeline for the large electrical panel on the bakery's back wall and commenced to troubleshoot. It didn't take long.

  After poking around a bit, then examining the bakery's equipment more closely, he returned to the panel.

  Less than two minutes later, the bakery's lights came back on. Better yet, Annabeth heard the refrigerator's motor start up again and settle into a steady, reassuring hum, joined by the sound of her freezer coming back to life.

  She checked
the digital thermometer display, located just above the fridge doors, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

  Still within the specified temperature range for safe food storage! She wouldn't have to toss anything after all.

  Fred came up behind her. "Well, I have good news and bad news for you," he said. "Which do you want to hear first?"

  "The good news, please," said Annabeth. "Though I think you've already given it to me." She indicated the fridge, then expanded her gesture to include the overhead lights. "You've saved the day, Mr. Barker."

  "I thought you were gonna call me Fred?" He looked abashed at her thanks. "Well, the reason that your power went out is that the circuit breakers were tripped. All I had to do was reset them."

  "So everything's okay again?"

  "For now," he said. "But that's where the bad news comes in. Your wiring is pretty old, and it was never designed for this kind of load."

  "But I was told that this place has always been a bakery," she said with a sinking feeling.

  He nodded. "Yes, but it's an old facility, and bakeries didn't have as many appliances and electronics back then. I know for sure that Frank never had fancy appliances like these."

  "I know," Annabeth said and couldn't help wrinkling her nose at the memory. "I had to replace almost everything before I opened—that old gas oven looked like it was going to explode at any minute!"

  "Yeah, well, you really need circuits rated for a higher amperage to handle this kind of load. You've got a refrigerator, a freezer, that big mixer—" Fred pointed at the Hobart, "—plus those two mixers—" he indicated her countertop stand mixers, "and I saw you also have an espresso machine, a fancy register, and that cooler case in front with the juices and sodas, not to mention all the lights and the HVAC system." He shook his head. "It's just a matter of time before something trips the circuit breakers again, and it's really not safe to be overloading your wiring like this."

  "What should I do?" Annabeth asked apprehensively.

  "In the short term, try not to run too many things at the same time. In the long term—you need to upgrade your wiring to handle a higher amperage load. This place is wired with old aluminum wiring, and you need copper."