Chapter Text
A swirl of orange and red leaves swept across the pavement as you padded down the sidewalk. The cool morning wind ruffled the branches of the trees lining the street, showering the ground with more fall foliage that crunched beneath your work boots. You risked a glance at your wristwatch; the digital face read 4:57 AM. Good, she will be expecting me any minute now. Being the only person walking the streets at this hour would be out of the question for many people, especially other women. However, you found the atmosphere peaceful and enjoyed walking the abandoned streets before the morning rush. Not to mention it means I get to have her all to myself. With a giddy smile, you stuffed your now frozen hand back into your pocket and continued with an extra pep in your step. As you rounded a corner, a lit storefront, the only one open at this hour, met your gaze. With your destination in sight, you broke out into a sprint and quickly reached its front steps.
Martha’s Bakery read a weathered wooden sign hanging over the entrance. Hand-painted designs of pastries, coffee, and baked goods dotted the windows. You eagerly stepped into the warm light shining through the glass and quickly slipped inside. Immediately upon entry, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread wafted into your nose. The warmth from the ovens prompted you to take off your jacket as your body warmed up. A mix of booths and wooden chairs lined the exposed interior brick wall. Framed pictures of the local area were hung over each table and accompanied by repurposed whisks that served as guards to the lightbulbs on the hanging light fixtures. With a sigh of relief, you began to walk towards the front counter, where a stool, with your name on it, had already been set out for you. She really does spoil me… maybe I do have a chance. As you began to pull back the stool, a warm voice greeted you.
“Good morning, sweetheart! Right on time as always.” Martha walked up to the counter with a steaming cup of espresso in one hand and a bacon, egg, and cheese croissant in the other. Her long, slightly wavy auburn hair was in a single braid that fell down her back. Your eyes were immediately transfixed on her small tan apron, which struggled to hold back her generous chest and failed to fully cover her soft belly. While the woman was only two years older than you, her body was more developed. Not like I'm complaining. Before you could continue your shameless staring, a hand was pressed against your forehead, snapping you back to reality. Heat spread across your cheeks when you noticed the coffee and croissant were already sitting in front of you.
“Oh dear, are you coming down with something? I knew walking out in that weather with such a thin jacket wasn’t good for your health.” Her soft hazel eyes were filled with concern as she moved both hands to cup your cheeks. You froze like a statue and felt your heart race when you registered what was happening. S-she’s touching me! Play it cool, girly, and try not to have a heart attack.
“Warm cheeks and spacing out? You poor thing.” With no warning, Martha leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. The effect was immediate as you jumped up from your stool and stared at her wide-eyed. Your mouth opened and closed as you failed to find any words and could only stand there staring at her slack-jawed. Martha just smiled and gave a wink, “It seems that kisses are the best medicine.”
Refusing to embarrass yourself any longer, you sat back down and busied yourself with the food laid out. As you ate the croissant, you glanced up at Martha and nearly choked when she was staring right back. Her face still held a friendly smile, but her eyes had something behind them that was difficult to read.
“Is the sandwich good?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s great as always.” You give out a nervous chuckle and drink some of the espresso.
“That's good.” An awkward silence falls between the two of you. This is my fault. If I hadn’t stared at her like some horn dog, this morning would be going so much better. Previous mornings were spent with you and Martha chatting amicably and bonding over a shared love of baked goods. Those moments helped you prepare to survive your 12-hour work shifts with a warm belly, caffeine in your system, and, of course, being with her. Ugh, how could I be so stupid. Martha would be this nice to anyone. She probably has a boyfriend whom she loves very much and will get married to and leave you all alone and-
“Hey, you’re off tomorrow, right? There’s a new recipe I’ve been wanting to add to the menu and a second opinion would be great!” Martha’s cheerful voice snaps you out of your spiral. She was now leaning over the counter, with her plentiful chest resting on the surface. You force a smile and meet her gaze.
“Yep, I’ll be off, and even if I did have to work, I would never miss an opportunity to try your baking! What’s this new item going to be? Please tell me it has chocolate. I love chocolate.” Your previous worries washed away, and you felt yourself relax. Martha let out a laugh at your childlike enthusiasm; her breasts jiggled with her movements, and to avoid the same mistake, you quickly looked away.
“Yes, it has chocolate in it, but that’s all the information you’ll be getting out of me. Because I want this to be a secret, are you fine with coming in past closing time? It will be similar to what we’re doing now but at night.” That strange look was back in her eyes again as she looked at you, waiting for a response.
“Of course I’ll come around tomorrow at 9:30!” Butterflies tickled your tummy knowing that Martha trusted and cared about your opinion. A goofy smile broke across your face before you could stop it. She chuckled in response before reaching out to gently ruffle your hair.
“It’s a date then. I’ll be looking forward to being with you again.”
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
Your phone alarm went off, signaling you had ten minutes to get to work.
“Sorry, Martha, I gotta run. See you tomorrow.” You drink the last of the coffee and yank on your jacket. Reaching into your wallet, you fish out a wrinkled $5 bill and slide it over to her.
“I still don’t know why you insist on paying me for this. Being able to talk to you and seeing your face every morning is enough.” Martha takes the bill and slides it into the pocket of her apron. Before you could rush out the door, Martha calls out.
“Be safe and have a good day at work!” You turn and give her a wave, wanting to say more, but the fear of being chewed out by your boss pushes you out the door. The sun was breaking over the horizon, and more people were out. The air was slightly warmer, but the wind was still strong, so you kept your jacket on. After pushing past slow-moving pedestrians, you eventually reached the warehouse with two minutes to spare. You clocked in and got ready for the long day ahead…