Denise McDonald - Baker's Law

Blue Collar Baker

In high school, Marissa Llewellyn had the hots for golden boy Jackson “Jax” Carlisles. So when he arrives at her bakery, yummier than ever, to investigate a series of break-ins, she can’t help being reminded of the awkward girl she was. But that’s not the reason she evades his questions….

Silver Spoon Sheriff

Jax grew up as part of the Fort Worth country club set, but as the new chief of police, that’s all behind him, much to the chagrin of his family. Though he may not remember Marissa, he can’t stop thinking about the woman she’s become—and the secret she’s obviously keeping from him.

A Recipe for Romance…or Disaster?

Marissa is determined to help the homeless teen she caught breaking into her shop, even if that means lying to Jax. And when the sparks between her and the sexy sheriff ignite into a passionate affair, Marissa will have to choose between following the rules he upholds, and her own sense of justice.

Baker’s Law

Denise McDonald

Mills and Boon E Contemporary Romance

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dedication

To Alan, Collin, Aaron, Reed and Zac—I love you guys!

Acknowledgments

I want to thank Sandy Behr for always being there for me. Amie Stuart for always pushing me to keep at it. Nikole Berg for being a super cheering section.

Brenda Wood, Betty Brett and Carie McDonald for always being as excited as I am.

Jody Wood for bragging to everyone who will listen to you.

And Alissa Davis, my editor, for enjoying the book as much as I do!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

A loud bang woke Marissa Llewellyn. She rubbed the grit from her eyes and felt the ledger shift across her chest. She’d fallen asleep in the back of her cupcake shop again, this time while going over the previous month’s pitiful financial statements and waiting to see if any cupcakes would go missing tonight.

Marissa sat up, let the ledger fall away. Something clanked in the kitchen again. She hadn’t imagined it. Someone was moving around in her shop.

Without taking her eyes off the open door separating her from the intruder, she edged her sock-covered feet off the sofa and pawed for the bat she kept for just this scenario. Her sister Marlie had told her it was a bad idea to try to catch whoever kept breaking into her bakery. Marissa couldn’t even prove there was a thief. Very little was missing, but twice in the morning when she’d come in, things were…off, out of place and she was always down a couple of cupcakes.

Water ran in the bathroom. She frowned. A robber who uses the restroom? She eased up off the sofa with the bat gripped tightly in one hand. In the other, she snatched up the cordless phone she’d left on the floor beside her. When the Oak Hollow 911-operator answered, she whispered, “This is Marissa Llewellyn at Sweets by Marissa. On Flower Tree. I need to report a break-in.”

“Are you in any danger, ma’am?”

“I don’t know. Please send someone quickly.” The operator was still talking when Marissa hung up the phone. She should have stayed on the line, but she needed both hands to swing the bat. She dropped the phone on the sofa. The police would hurry. The station was only a few blocks away.

The water in the bathroom shut off and she paused only a couple of feet from the door to her office. Her heart pounded heavily. A shadow danced over the threshold into the office as the intruder walked past it and back toward the kitchen. Marissa held her breath.

A moment later one of the kitchen stools squeaked.

She crept to the opened door and gave a quick peek. The after-hours lighting cast shadows throughout the back of the shop. She couldn’t see all the way into the belly of the kitchen, so she edged farther and farther out of her office. A tall, lanky man sat at the huge stainless steel table with books open in front of him. A discarded cupcake wrapper sat at his elbow. She shook her head. What the hell?

A siren sounded. The police had arrived. The man scrambled and shoved books into a backpack at his feet. He turned toward the back door and then froze when he saw her waving a bat at him.

She shifted the bat. “Don’t move.” It wasn’t a man—tall and lean, sure, but in the still-going-through-puberty way. “You’re a teenager! What are you doing in here?”

He looked like he wanted to bolt, but he stayed put. He was dressed like every other teenager in Oak Hollow, Texas. Baggy jeans hung from his skinny hips. His white T-shirt and open button-down plaid shirt looked tidy but worn. She didn’t know his name, but she’d seen him hanging around the shops.

“What are you doing here?” She eased a step closer to him.

The boy shrugged. There was no anger or menace coming off the kid. He looked more resigned than anything as he sighed and slumped his shoulders.

“I called the police,” she said, as if it wasn’t obvious enough with red and blue lights illuminating the front of the store. A heavy knock sounded. “Walk to the front.” She waggled the bat at him.

What if he wouldn’t? Fear tittered down her spine. He was a good head taller than she, well over six feet tall. He could easily overpower her and run out the back door. Luckily, the boy turned and headed to the front of the store. She flipped on the lights as she crossed through the kitchen behind him.

Once her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she motioned with the bat to one of the tall tables with three stools in the corner. “Sit.” He sat.

Another knock sounded, harder. “Oak Hollow police.”

A large man stood at the front door. He had on the Oak Hollow police uniform of dark slacks and shirt with a silver shield pinned to his chest and a tan Stetson hat. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t even think about moving.” She finally let the bat fall to her side and dug in her pocket for the keys. The deadbolt was locked. How had the boy gotten in?

The police officer shifted when the door swung out. “Marissa Llewellyn?” When she nodded he continued, “Did you call about someone breaking and entering?”

Where had she heard that deep, raspy voice before?

“Ma’am?” He pushed the Stetson back farther on his head. A patch of reddish-brown hair fell over his forehead. “Did you call in?”

“Yes, officer—”

“Chief Carlisle,” he corrected her.

“Carlisle?” Her eyes widened. “Jax?” She took a step back and got a better look. He had to be well over six feet tall with the broadest shoulders she’d seen in a long time. He still had that dusting of freckles across his nose. He looked every bit as handsome and intimidating now as he had nearly twenty years earlier.