Must Love Dogs

Lemoine

Must Love Dogs

By Elyse Lemoine
The warm, welcoming scent of fresh brownies pervaded the
air of the closed kitchen as Spring pulled a fresh batch of them
out of the oven, setting the large tray on the counter to cool.
Moving quickly through the tight space, she grabbed two bundt
pans and set them in the center of the oven, turning the
temperature down just enough to let them bake slowly.

The

perfect amount of time at the perfect temperature, just enough

so they didnt dry out.
She didnt wait for the brownies to fully cool before she
turned the tray over and laid them out onto the counter, peeling
off the parchment paper and throwing it into the bin.
they would smell delicious, almost mouthwateringly so.

To most,
The

half-melted chocolate chips sprinkled throughout the moist

brownie dough coupled with candied walnuts would be enough to
tempt a taste from even the most willful person.

But Spring had

quite a few things working for her: first, she didnt love
chocolate, not in the same way others do; second, shed seen
these particular brownies almost every day since they became a
popular item; third, as a baker, though she may love pastries
and desserts as much as everyone else, she hardly cared to snack
on her own creations, as well as they turned out.
It was probably for the best.

While one does need to have

a certain fondness for food in order to spend all day every day
baking, she had spent her first year of culinary school eating
everything that came out of her oven.

She knew each item on

display in the front of her bakery by scent and by taste.

She

didnt need any more nor any less.

As expert hands cut the brownies into manageable, sellable
chunks, the door to the kitchen opened and a loud, pleased hum
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Spring picked her head up from the sheet of brownie

in front of her, knife halfway through cutting another row,

before looking over at the door.

Standing in the frame, leaning

against it with an empty tray tucked under her arm, was Shawn,
one of her full-time workers and her oldest employee.

She was

wearing a grin on her face as if it were the latest fashion,

eyes twinkling as she twirled her hair around the index finger
of her free hand.
Need something? Spring asked, looking back down at the
brownies so she could finish the row.
Yeah, just need to grab some cookies off the rack, Shawn
said, sliding the tray out from under her arm and grasping it in
her hands.

Smells delicious in here!

Springs response was a mere grunt, more hum than sigh as

she started moving the brownies onto a paper doily set on a
stand, arranging them in a pyramid.

Whether Shawn was offended

or not by the lack of reaction from her boss, she didnt say,
instead brushing past her to move further into the kitchen,
squeezing through until she got to one of the racks.

Her

fingers skimmed along the lips of each tray until she found the
one she wanted, tugging it free so she could refill her tray
with cookies.
Howre things up front? Spring asked, as if she didnt
have a clue (she did); as if she hadnt asked that the last
shed made her own way to the front to check up on the days
stock or help out with the morning rush.
Shawn hummed as the stacked the cookies artfully.
know.

Oh, you

Better now that lunch is over, she said, nearly dropping

a cookie on the ground but catching it just in the nick of time.

Spring rewarded her with a Look, which Shawn seemed to promptly
ignore.

Theres that elderly couple in the front again.

and a scone, same as always.

Tea

Some business man came through and

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asked about party catering or whatever, something about some

office event.
Did you
Yeah, I got his card.

Put it in the register.

Shawn

waved her hand in front of her face before she returned to

rifling through cookies.
Spring sighed, returning to her own task as well.

She

spared a quick glance toward the door of the kitchen, just to

make sure there wasnt anyone waiting out front.

Good.

Your faith in me is astounding, boss, Shawn teased,

grabbing the now-full tray of cookies once she seemed satisfied
with her selection.

Making her way back toward the kitchen

door, she hesitated, looking back thoughtfully, head tilted to

one side.

Oh yeah, one last thing.

Spring looked up this time, just after she finished setting

the dome cover on top of the cake stand.
That guys outside.

Yes?

Shawns smile turned coy.

You

know, the cute one with the dog?

Spring felt her heart flutter, thumping against her chest
as it made the slow crawl up into her throat.

Immediately, she

crossed the gap between herself and the door so she could peek
out and see, pointedly ignoring Shawns snickering as she
slipped out to place the cookie tray back behind the counter.
She definitely wasnt lying.

Just outside of the glass

doors and windows of the bakery was the Cute Dog Guy, a nickname
given to him by Janet, one of Springs part-timers.

Probably

because they had no idea what his actual name was - he was in
and out, all dazzling smiles and charm, and paid with cash - and
couldnt think of anything more creative.

(A few attempts had

been made at coming up with something more interesting, like

some kind of reference or even attempts at divining what his
name might be, but none of them had stuck.)
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He seemed to be wrestling with his dog, the excitable black

lab jumping up to lick his face as he crouched and rubbed her
down.

He was smiling, eyes crinkling as they squeezed shut and

lips parted as if he were laughing.

Springs heart continued

its awkward thumping, intent on making its way up into her

throat and tie her tongue, as it was usually wont to do.
Still, she couldnt tear her eyes away from the sight of
Cute Dog Guy, one of their infrequent regulars and the object of
her unknown and understated affections.

He was particularly

handsome, his skin dark like espresso, hair cropped close to his
head, and just enough facial hair to look dashing.

He looked

especially handsome when he was doting on his dog, a scene which

touched Springs frustratingly uncooperative heart more when she
thought of her own dog back home.
Once their play came to an end, he wrapped the dogs leash
around the nearest pole and made for the door to the bakery.
Spring immediately tore her eyes away from him, her cheeks
flushing an uncharacteristic red, before she scurried back into
the kitchen to grab the tray of brownies she had left behind.
Afternoon, she heard Shawn call from behind the counter,
her voice a little too cheery for Springs liking.
Afternoon, was Cute Dog Guys response.
Taking a few deep breaths from behind the kitchen door,
Spring gripped the plate of brownies tight in her hands before
she steeled her nerves and stepped out into the storefront.

She

made a point of not looking at him, instead focusing on making

her way over to the cake display so she could set the stand of
brownies on top.
She caved halfway, however, and glanced over at the
register, noticing - much to her chagrin - that he was staring
straight at her.

Her head snapped forward and her cheeks lit

aflame.
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So, a black tea andwhat else, sir? Shawn probed.

Oh!

Uh, Ill have a croissant and one of those.

Spring sighed as she set the brownie stand on top of the

display case, adjusting it until it was just the right.
Grabbing a fresh pair of tongs, she was determined to set them
down next to the brownies and make her way back into the kitchen
when Shawn stopped her, handing her a bag and giving her a
significant and infuriatingly teasing look.
Can you get me a brownie?

Im a bit busy with the

register, she said, before turning back to ring up Cute Dog

Guys purchases.
Spring froze in place, gripping the bag in her hands.
There was a definite and purposeful reason why she worked in the
kitchen and made little to no contact with her customers.
loathed small talk.

She

She wasnt anti-social by any means, but

she preferred the company of her dog, her close friends, and her
kitchen utensils.
What made this even worse was the fact that it was Cute Dog
Guy who was looking at her expectantly as she stood, frozen, in
front of the brownies.
Good, she said, when she definitely meant to say sure.
Resisting the urge to smack her face into the cold glass of the
display case, she instead reached for the tongs and extracted a
fresh brownie from the top of her carefully constructed pyramid
as Shawn made herself busy by prepping a large black tea.
Though Spring certainly never shuffled, it almost felt like
it as she made her way over to Cute Dog Guy.

Handing him the

bag, she tried to look as cool and collected as possible as he

took it from her, offering her one of the dazzling smiles she
had only seen from behind glass windows.
Thanks, he said, and she realized this was the first time
hed ever said a word to her.

Definitely not a coincidence, as

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she always fled to the kitchen whenever hed come inside.

Which

would also make this the closest theyd ever been.

Its nothing, she said, and was quite content to return
back to the kitchen now, but it seemed he, well, wasnt.
Spring wasnt sure to be happy or miserable about that
fact.
Youre the baker here, right?

Your stuffs amazing.

He

laughed, his voice like smooth velvet-y chocolate, like the kind
one would dip strawberries into.

Or use to make fudge.

I used

to frequent Melissas down the street - its closer to my

apartment - but this place is definitely better.
Behind Spring, Shawn cackled, moving to set his tea down on
the counter.
rivals.

Yes!

Another customer stolen from our hated

She pumped her fist in victory and it took a severe

amount of willpower not to elbow her in the side.

Thank you for being such a loyal customer, was all Spring
could say, which seemed to earn her a nudge from Shawn,
something she promptly ignored.
Cute Dog Guy smiled.

Yeah, of course, he said, and then

picked up his tea, tilted it toward them in a salute, and headed

for the door.
Youre awful, Shawn whispered.
But Spring ignored her, content to watch his back as he
walked away from her and toward the exit.

She was almost sad to

see him go, despite how badly shed wanted to flee from their
conversation only seconds before.

She wasnt even a terrible

conservationist, by any means, but the fact that shed had a

very unfounded and confusing crush on him since hed first
walked through their door three months ago made things a little
bit more awkward than usual.
But he talked to her.

And he complimented her cooking.

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Picking her head up, Spring remembered something she had

stored in the kitchen.

Rushing through the door, she snatched a

small, clear plastic bag, decorated with a bow, from behind the
blender.

Gripping it tightly in her hand, she moved back out

and toward the front door.

Wait! she called, her near-crippling shyness forgotten in
a momentary spark of inspiration.

Cute Dog Guy had made his way

outside and looked up when he heard her, his hand on his dogs
leash and his lips on the rim of his cup.

His eyes widened in

surprise, but that quickly faded to something similar to

happiness.
Yes? he asked.
Stopping just a few feet away from him, Spring suddenly
felt like an idiot.

Behind the door, Shawn was probably doubled

over laughing, or had escaped into the kitchen to howl like an

idiot.

And, in front of her, was Cute Dog Guy, the object of

her affections, currently staring at her expectantly.

Here, she finally said, handing the small package over to
him.

He slipped his dogs leash around his wrist and reached

out to take it.

Theyre for your dog.

His eyes widened when he inspected the bag.

Inside were

little baked dog treats, healthy and potentially delicious (they

were the only thing she handt taste-tested).
Wow, thank you.

Winnie will love these, he said.

And he

smiled at her like she didnt have chocolate on the hem of her
apron or flour dusting one of her cheeks; like her hair wasnt
falling out of the hairband shed pushed it back with.
Springs face lit up like a candle, her skin tingling and
burning from her ears to her cheeks.

She watched as he opened

the bag, took a treat out, and then fed it to his dog, who ate
it up happily and looked up at him afterward as if expecting
more.
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Told you, he said, and laughed that chocolate-rich laugh.

Springs heart fluttered.
Oh, uh.

I didnt know you made these.

We dont, she offered, unhelpfully.

When he

raised an eyebrow at her, looking at her in a way she could only

describe as hopeful, she rubbed the back of her neck.
might.

But we

Soon.

Well, Ill have to pick more then, he said, stuffing the

bag into his pocket.

Thanks.

Its nothing.
Gathering up his things again, Cute Dog Guy gave her a
brilliant and blinding smile, setting her heart aflame again.
Ill see you next week then, he said and then paused.
Spring, right?

He gestured toward the sign in the window of

her bakery as he asked.

Her stomach did backflips.

Yeah.

Ash, he said, and then with a wave and a grin, took off
down the street, his dog, Winnie, following.
Ash, she mumbled to herself, liking the way the name
sounded on her tongue.
Stepping back inside again, Spring was met with a clearly
amused Shawn, who was crossing her arms over her chest and
watching her expectantly.
Please tell me you put your phone number in icing on those
dog cookies.
Spring only rolled her eyes and returned to the kitchen.

The next week, when Ash (formerly known as Cute Dog Guy)
returned, there was a whole jar of dog cookies sitting next to
the brownies.

He bought six.

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That time, Spring didnt use the excuse of moving brownies

to leave the kitchen, though she did fiddle around with things
as he ordered, occasionally glancing over only to see he was
looking back.
That time, as hed left, she followed, after noticing that
hed accidentally left his tea behind.

And that time, he took

it with a smile and asked her if she wanted to pet Winnie.

She did.
That time, when she wandered back into the bakery, Shawn
was grinning at her as she held up a business card.
this for you, she said.

He left

It definitely says Call Me in pen.

Shut up, Spring mumbled, but she snatched the card anyway
as she made for the kitchen again, storing it in the front
pocket of her apron and feeling warmth down to the tip of her
toes.