Cake Walk

By Theodore Black

David's talent and hard work as pastry chef and owner of Knead to Know has earned him a dedicated customer base over the last three years, but he faces an unexpected challenge when a new bakery, Cake Walk, opens up just down the road. He anticipates a potential loss in sales if he doesn't change up his menu, but what he doesn't anticipate is that the owner of this interloping bakery is not only exactly his type─ but downright charming and intensely interested in getting in David's pants from the moment they meet. Max isn't usually the sort to let a little thing like being business competitors get in the way of landing the guy of his dreams, but his own perceived shortcomings might sabotage him first if David can't meet him halfway.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theodore Black
• Release date: May 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005330491

Book preview

Cake Walk

Copyright 2022 Theodore Black

Published by Theodore Black at Smashwords

Cover art by Theodore Black; aka cryptid-jack

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Content Warning

This work is intended for audiences age 18 and older as it contains explicit sex scenes. These include: blow jobs, public sex (undiscovered), body piercings (ears, nipples, dick), unprotected anal sex, and a man very horny for spoken French.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

About Theodore Black

Other books by Theodore Black

Connect with Theodore Black

Acknowledgments

To my sibling, V, for their invaluable comma wrangling skills and constant support of my writing over the years. Love you, kid.

Chapter One

It wasn’t uncommon to find one or two early-birds lingering outside the small but successful bakery Knead to Know before opening. But David, the owner, noted that the two people waiting outside as he emerged from the kitchen with a tray of paris-brests weren’t the standard early morning commuters. Well, one of them wasn’t anyways; he wasn’t sure about the other.

Never the sort to be rushed when in the middle of a task, David took a moment to place the freshly baked rings of choux pastry and cream in the display case as his assistant swept out after him and noted the same thing he had.

Rather than put her own tray of croissants into the display case the way her employer had, the woman shot David a dry look that he ignored and said, "You could let him in early."

I will when I’m done, David replied as he glanced sidelong at the petite woman who was still giving him a look that said she was disappointed in him. At 5’9", the pastry chef wasn’t a tall man, but he still had several inches on Sophie when he straightened and turned to face her.

The woman had been working for him nearly three years now, practically since he’d first opened the bakery, but that look still managed to get to him. Sophie was a few years younger than himself but she had such a powerful ‘mom energy’ about her that it took a person far stronger than himself not to cave before the force of her disapproval. Sophie was probably one of the most kind hearted people he knew, she’d give a stranger the shirt off her back, but she had an excellent memory. Even those that could withstand that look tended to wind up regretting it eventually.

Still, he was her boss.

Let him in, then, David said with a soft snort and took her tray of croissants then bent to add those to the display case as well. I’ll handle these.

Knowing full well what the man was doing, Sophie rolled her eyes but did as she was asked and lifted the section of counter that separated them from the front of the shop then strode towards the front door. Her approach was noted almost immediately by the two men waiting outside, and she smiled at them both when she turned the key and let them inside.

Mornin’, Sophie. Glad to see one of you is feeling hospitable this morning; fuckin’ freezing out there, Frank said as he passed her, cheeks and nose ruddy from the cold. Both the calender and the local weatherman had declared it spring at last, but the temperature still hovered around freezing at night and into the early hours of the morning.

Good morning, Frank, Sophie told the man with a warm smile, then glanced at the tall, quiet man who had accompanied him. Who’s your friend?

This is Tom, Frank said and jerked his thumb at the man before he could answer for himself. He’s my new sous chef.

Oh, Sophie said with a blink. What happened to- the woman frowned a little, brow furrowing as she struggled to recall the name of his last sous chef. Normally she had a knack for remembering that kind of thing, but Frank went through assistants like the bakery went through rolls of parchment paper.

Didn’t make the cut, the man said with an irritated wave of a hand, clearly displeased by this fact.

Ah, the woman said in a carefully neutral tone before turning and offering her hand to the newcomer, who had yet to say anything. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Tom. I’m Sophie.

Just as tall as Frank, Tom towered over the petite baker, his hand dwarfing hers when he accepted and gave it a shake. Sophie was pleased to note that, though small, the man’s smile was warm and genuine when he replied, It’s nice to meet you too.

My order ready? Frank asked as he approached the counter where David had finished putting away the croissants and moved on to a tray of decadent eclairs.

Oh yes, I was just about to box it up, actually, Sophie said as she ducked back behind the counter again. Give me a minute.

Sure thing, Frank said and flashed her one of his lopsided grins then leaned against the nearest section of counter so he could watch David work.

Before he could say anything, however, David beat him to it and, in perfect French, asked, Another sous chef? How many is that since Christmas now? Ten?

Standing politely in front of the display case with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat Tom looked at him and blinked in surprise that only increased when when Frank cracked a grin and just as fluently replied, Four, you prick.

David grunted, though a smile tugged at his lips as he finished his work and set his tray on the back counter before he moved to the register and began ringing up Frank’s order from memory. He glanced at Tom surreptitiously as he did so, then looked back at Frank and asked, Think he’s going to last or are you going to be back in here next week with number eleven?

"Five," Frank corrected again with a huff, then looked at Tom speculatively. Unable to follow the conversation of the other two men, despite being certain he was the subject of it, the sous chef had turned his attention to the contents of the display case, an inscrutable expression on his tan, angular face. And who knows. He’s promising, I’ll say that much, Frank added with a shrug.

David crooked a brow at this admission. It didn’t sound like much to an outsider, but Frank admitting that someone had promise was high praise indeed, which made the pastry chef give Tom a second look. Tall and dark skinned with a lean build, he had black hair that swept mostly to one side with the exception of his forelock, which continually fell across his forehead. He seemed the introspective type, which was a relief after Frank’s last sous chef, who had been an unrelenting chatterbox. David wasn’t particularly sorry he wouldn’t bee seeing him again.

Here we go, Sophie said as she pushed back through the swinging door from the kitchen with three cake boxes stacked neatly one on top of the other then placed them on the counter.

Great, Frank said, swapping back to English as he flashed the woman another smile and pulled the boxes closer while David ran his credit card. What’ve we got today? he asked as he opened the top box and peeked inside. Beside him, Tom stepped in to take a look as well, clearly curious.

The top one is a tarte tatin, Sophie explained, then tapped the middle box with a finger and continued, then there’s a tarte aux fruits and a raspberry linzer torte. She leaned in a little as Frank opened those as well to give them a brief inspection and, with a conspiratorial smile, said, That one was my idea.

"The Francophile let you put something Austrian in his oven?" Frank joked, grinning viciously when he looked at David, who rolled his eyes and passed him the receipt.

"’The Francophile’ is going to shove you in the oven if you don’t shut up," the pastry chef countered.

Frank scoffed while Tom looked at Sophie and said, It looks wonderful. The lattice work is very impressive.

Sophie beamed and said, Thank you. I don’t have another for you to try, but- she looked at the back side of the display case for a moment, then slid open one of the doors and plucked out a paris-brest and offered it to Tom. Here, try this instead. When the man hesitated to take it, she waved it a little in encouragement. Go ahead, my treat.

Tom glanced surreptitiously at the other men and when David noticed, he raised an eyebrow. "You might as well. You’re going to need it, working with this casse couille."

Frank barked a laugh and shot back, "Blaireau. Shut up."

Just ignore them, Sophie said in a low voice as the pair continued to bicker back and forth over the counter