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Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: Digby Waters hates his job. He's an office drone in a big, soulless company, and most days he has to drag himself off to work. One day he doesn't make it into the office. Instead, he's drawn into a bakery by the delicious smell of their trademark cinnamon buns wafting out into the street. When Digby sees the help wanted notice in the bakery window, he's convinced it's a sign. Early morning hours and a gruff baker can't deter him from taking the job, especially when the baker, Keith, is built like a linebacker and Digby admires more than just his buns. Has Digby found more than just the job of his dreams?
eBook Publisher: Torquere Press/Spice it Up, 2009 www.torquerepress.com
eBookwise Release Date: April 2010

28 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [48 KB]
Words: 10602
Reading time: 30-42 min.

He dreamed of the East. Of markets that spanned street after street, as far as his eye could see. He dreamed of spices, savory and sweet, filling burlap bags, the fragrant powders spilling out, drawing the eye as well as the nose. The dark, burnt red of paprika, the bright yellow of curry and green of every shade he'd ever imagined. His favorite of all of them, though, was the brown of the cinnamon.

Cinnamon smelled so good and added a savory sweet mix to any dish. And yet, if you ate it on it's own it burned the tongue; it was unruly and wild and at the same time: comforting, happy-making.

Of all the spices, only cinnamon smelled of home.

Digby Waters hated his job. He hated it with a growing passion that was beginning to take over his life. He was a mid-level drone, one of thousands, tens of thousands, millions even. Nothing special, nothing vital, just another guy at a desk like all the others. It wasn't even the being one of millions that bothered him. If he'd found any happiness at all in what he did, that wouldn't have mattered. This job brought him no joy, though. Something important was missing.

He spent his days waiting to be done so he could go home, and then once there, he'd talk himself into going back in the morning. So far he'd managed to convince himself the job wasn't that bad -- he certainly liked the money -- and he could put in yet another day without going completely insane. So far.

This morning he was late and couldn't quite work up any sort of giving a shit. He figured that was a bad sign. He took a shortcut, making himself hurry, even if his heart wasn't in it.

His nose caught it first, his stomach falling in headlong immediately after, growling loudly.

Yeast -- rising dough -- and cinnamon. Someone was making cinnamon buns and the smells drew him like a moth to a flame, hopefully without the same end result. The bakery store front was simple, almost plain even, but that made the help wanted sign on the door stand out all the more.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the sign and went right in.

The place was packed, the harried girl behind the counter serving people as fast as she could. And no wonder it was so busy, the wonderful smells that had drawn him into the bakery in the first place were even stronger inside and he had no doubt the confections sold here would be nothing short of amazing. You'd be the hero of the office if you brought in something that smelled this good.

Digby strode right up to the counter, earning himself glares and grumbles and several, "Hey, buddy, line start back there". Only it hadn't been "buddy."