#baker thor

A sigh of relief escapes you when you see the open sign of the bakery still glowing into the night. Pulling your puffer tighter around your waist, you look at both sides before crossing the road, the sound of the heels of your boots clacking against the asphalt bouncing off through the empty street. You take slow steps, careful not to slip against the icy floor but once you reach the other side, you see the sign close, your heart beating fast in panic as you race towards the door. 

“Please—” You say as you stand by the entryway, coming face to face with a burly man, golden hair held up in a bun with strands falling from the sides, with a stubble to match his features. He wears an apron over a red plaid shirt and with the way he looks at you, you see his eyes a striking blue.

“Can I help you?” He asks when he opens the door, his voice low yet full like thunder.

“Do you still have any cakes I can purchase?” Your voice shivers as you speak, the cold slowly seeping through your jacket. “Or anything, really. I just need something to bring to a party.”

Heat crawls up your neck and scatters on your cheeks when you see him give you a once over, a smirk slowly playing on his lips. He’s much bigger up close and you can’t help but feel intimidated by his size, making you feel even smaller. He swings the door open and holds out an arm, a gesture for you to come in. 

The warmth of the shop is a welcome aura against the blistering cold outside, yet you feel a slight chill run up your spine with how the man’s eyes linger, keeping them on you as he rounds the counter. 

“I only have cupcakes and cookies left. But if you really want a cake, I have a chocolate one at the back.” 

“I’ll take it.” You say almost in a hurry, blushing at the amused look the man gives you. “I’ll take the rest of your cookies as well.” You add. “The least I can do after allowing me in.”

“Very well.” He hums and taps against the register, giving you your total after. “You can tap your card when you’re ready—I’ll just grab the cake.” 

You nod at his instructions and watch him disappear from the double doors that lead to the back. Taking your credit card from your wallet, you press it against the device, waiting for the beep before stowing it back.

You’ve never really had the chance to go around the neighborhood when you moved in a week ago. The task to find anything to bring for a potluck party of your co-worker proved to be a struggle, being all too new and different from the town you grew up in, the sullen wasteland you escaped from. 

The bakery has always been one of the places you’ve wanted to go to. Hearing your neighbors rave about the pastries and treats they purchase for their morning coffee when they catch you at the mail room and corner you into an unwanted conversation. Though, you wouldn’t say such an exchange is meaningless, for, without the information they gave, you wouldn’t have known about this place. 

You look up when you hear the swoosh of the doors, the man holding a box in his hand, a transparent container with a lone cupcake inside sitting atop it. He places the box on the counter then slides open the display, taking the last 6 cookies on the tray and sliding them into a transparent bag, before tying a gold and red ribbon around it. 

“Will that be all, cupcake?” He asks and you startle at the name he’s called you. 

“Uhh—yes.” You mumble. “Thank you.” Your eyes then dart to the cupcake atop the cake then look up at him with utter curiosity. “I didn’t buy this.” 

“On the house. Salted Caramel Cupcake—my favorite. You should try it.” He grins then places the bag of cookies over the box of the cake, holding a card out to you after. You take it. “I’m having a soft launch for my new item.” He announces out of the blue. “I’d be happy to have you come by and taste it. I know you’re new around here and it would be a nice welcoming event for you.”

You’re curious as to how he knows that, but you don’t pay it much mind. The neighborhood is small and you don’t doubt he knows almost everyone around, and you’re the new face in town. You swallow thickly at his invitation, the grin on his lips looking overly friendly. “When is it?” You ask if only to be polite. 

“Next week. Sunday.”

“I-I’ll check my schedule.” You smile, although it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Thank you again—” You try to look for his name tag but see none.

“Thor. The owner.” He supplies before gesturing at the box. “You need help taking this to your car?”

“No, thank you. Just walking.” You volunteer. “Party isn’t far from here.” 

“Very well.” He rounds the counter when you grab your purchase, walking with you to the door and opening it, shivering as the winter chill blows inside the shop. “It was nice meeting you, cupcake. I hope to see you again.”

You cringe when he says the pet name again, mumbling your thanks as you walk out of the shop. You scurry to the other side of the street, making your way to the apartment of your co-worker. The calm and measured steps you’d usually take when walking during the winter become brisk and hurried as you sense Thor’s burning gaze at the back of your head.