Title: Love on the Rise
Author: A.C. Thomas
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 11/30/2021
Length: 42100
Genre: Contemporary Holiday, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, gay, Christmas holiday, Italian bakery/ baker, banker, soulmates/ love at first sight, money woes, small-town community, pastry love
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Description
Matteo Leonelli is getting by, running his old-fashioned family bakery in the heart of Belleview, North Carolina. He’s struggled to keep the place going since his parents passed, and his cakes don’t taste the same without someone to share them.
Then, Matteo meets Ethan, a thoughtful, handsome artist, who sees Matt in a way no one has before, who touches him as if it’s a privilege. One date, and Matt is in love, dancing among clouds of meringue as he bakes up a storm to prepare for the holidays.
Ethan Price is getting by, running his family banking firm. He had to abandon his dreams of becoming an artist, but he gives it his best effort in his father’s memory. Then, he meets a man who makes his stress melt away like butter on warm bread. Matt, who smells like cookies and looks like a Caravaggio painting. Ethan is in love, head over heels as he rushes through the business of the day so he can see Matt again. He plans to sweep him off his adorable feet.
Disaster strikes as Matt’s bakery loans come due during the holidays. The news is just as shocking as the man who delivers it. Ethan isn’t the sensitive artist of Matt’s dreams, but a cold-hearted banker, and Matt’s heart crumbles like shortbread. As Christmas draws near, Matt works to save his bakery, while Ethan works to win him back. Beneath the sparkling lights of bakery windows displaying holiday treats, they must decide: can Ethan reconcile his passion for art and his love for Matt with his obligations to the family business? Can Matt forgive Ethan and open his heart to a love so sweet it outshines his pastries?
With determination, well-placed mistletoe, and a dash of cinnamon, they just might.
Love on the Rise
A.C. Thomas © 2021
All Rights Reserved
“Hi, good morning. I’ll take a blueberry muffin, my missing briefcase, and all of your banking documents for the past seven years, please.”
Matt blinked up at Ethan as he blew through the front door on a flurry of snow the moment Clementine flipped the sign to Open.
Ethan’s long legs had eaten up the hardwood so quickly he was at the counter and drumming his fingers before Matt could finish loading donuts onto a display tray. He made him wait, possibly drawing out the task slightly longer than usual just for the pure satisfaction of making him fidget.
Irritatingly, Ethan’s windblown hair and pink nose only served to make him even more attractive. Matt refused to think about his own appearance, knowing the same could not be said of him. He was pretty sure he had a streak of chocolate glaze on his cheek, and he hadn’t bothered with any product for his curls, so they sprang in every direction.
Not that Ethan cared what Matt looked like; he’d already gotten what he wanted from him.
Matt plated two fresh, cream-filled pastries and shut the glass case with a click. “You’ll have some pasticiotti. This isn’t a Starbucks, you troglodyte. And, you want, what? Seven what, now?”
Ethan ogled the plate Matt slid across to him as if it were a pile of gold. It made unwelcome warmth spread through Matt’s chest to see him appreciate his baking. He knew it was good, but it was another thing entirely to have someone acknowledge it. Especially someone he cared abou—
Nope. Can’t think about that. Stupid broken heart.
“And, maybe, if you needed your briefcase so badly, you shouldn’t have left it behind in the first place. Are you always so careless with the things in your life?” Matt held on to his apron as he gritted his teeth against feelings he didn’t want any longer. Feelings that wouldn’t seem to go away, that only blossomed and grew the more Ethan looked at him with those soulful eyes.
“Only the most important things, lately,” Ethan said softly, his low voice only intensifying Matt’s struggle with his pesky feelings.
Matt retrieved the briefcase from under the counter and held it out to Ethan. “Well, here it is. I might’ve gotten a little powdered sugar on it, but it’s none the worse for wear. That’s what you get for leaving it here so long.”
Ethan’s quiet, sincere thanks made Matt want to throw something. Like the briefcase. Or Ethan, up against the antique striped wallpaper, where Matt could—
“Do you have an office somewhere? Where do you keep your documentation?”
He kept using words like that, as if Matt knew exactly what he meant by them.
Matt decided it was best to end that illusion now. “You mean, like, our receipts and stuff?”
While he was sure the horror in Ethan’s expression would be nothing compared to his brother’s if he were here, it was still enough to make Matt have to swallow back a giggle.
Ethan grimaced but tried to hide it, resulting in a twisted pretzel expression that was finally unflattering for once. “Yes, receipts. Invoices for expenses, payroll, as well as any and all loan documents you have for Price Banking.”
Matt nodded sagely as Ethan rattled off his list. “Sure, sure. That’s what I meant by ‘and stuff.’ I keep all that junk in the back. Here, let’s go around so you’re not tramping through my kitchen.”
Ethan didn’t back away quickly enough when Matt rounded the counter, and Matt found himself face-to-lapel with his expensive wool coat.
He smelled of spiced rum aftershave and mint shampoo.
Matt might have had a slightly Pavlovian reaction to the scents, but no one could prove it if he didn’t open his mouth. Luckily, he was excellent at swallowing.
He paused at the rickety coatrack by the door to don his coat and slip galoshes over his baker’s clogs. “We’ll go in the side entrance—the office is just below the stairs. You can follow me.”
Ethan seemed to take that as permission to dog Matt’s heels, clutching his plate and his briefcase. He would have been breathing down Matt’s neck if he’d been a few inches shorter. He waited in silence while Matt unlocked the side door and switched on the light to his foyer.
“It’s the door to the right. The door to the left leads into the kitchen, so don’t go waltzing in like you own the place already. You’ve got until the end of the quarter before you can do that. Hang your coat on the hook by the door, there’s no use looking at papers if you’re just gonna get snow all over them.”
Ethan shuffled awkwardly in the narrow entryway. He tried to hang up his coat without putting down his plate or his briefcase, as if Matt might snatch them away from him. “And where do the stairs lead to?”
Matt kicked at the bottom stair, where the tread was so worn it curved in the middle. “They lead to my apartment, so don’t go up there either. I’m sure your bank will get that, too, when you drop the axe after Christmas. Hope you like garage-sale chic decor.”
He didn’t want to think about the fact that he would lose his home the moment he lost his bakery. Everything was crashing down around him, and he still had cakes to take out of the oven.
Raspberry migliaccio waited for no man.
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A.C. Thomas left the glamorous world of teaching preschool for the even more glamorous world of staying home with her toddler. Between the diaper changes and tea parties, she escapes into fantastical worlds, reading every romance available and even writing a few herself.
She devours books of every flavor—science fiction, historical, fantasy—but always with a touch of romance because she believes there is nothing more fantastical than the transformative power of love.
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