Flour Girl (Bucky x reader Bakery AU)

Part 11

Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy).

Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you're distracted by a secret admirer...But who is he? (Inspired by "You've Got Mail", Enemies to Lovers)

Warnings: none! Mild swearing?

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Hmmm. What do you think? Can she trust him in her kitchen?? I guess we'll find out right now!! :D And I won't apologize for inevitably making hungry OR for my love of The Beatles. That's just how it is. ;) I love you guys! Hope you enjoy this part! Any and all feedback is appreciated!! <3

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Previously:

"Do you want some help?"

Choking on your words, you nearly went catatonic at his offer.

"What?" you finally squeaked out.

He talked slower with a genuine smile. "I'm offering my help. I mean, I'm a fair baker and at the very least, an extra set of hands. Plus, you get to boss me around for a while. So, what do you say?"

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A bubble of laughter traveled up your throat and then burst past your lips upon hearing the absurdity of his words.

"You can't be serious," you giggled, trying to control yourself. It might have been the sleep deprivation and exhaustion but somehow hearing Jimmy offer his help to you was the funniest thing you'd ever heard.

Jimmy, the heir apparent of your competitor. Jimmy, who had been a constant thorn in your side since you met. Jimmy, who claimed you were doomed to fail within the first year. Unbelievable. Clearly, it was all a joke.

"Y/N, I am completely serious," he said with a furrowed brow. "I have no doubt that you could do it all on your own, but you shouldn't have to," Jimmy spoke sternly now.

Swallowing your laughter, you took a deep breath and really looked at the man before you now. There was no hint of joking in his features. He really meant what he said. Jimmy was here late at night, just to...help you?

"Why?" you demanded. "Why would you help me? I thought you were determined to run me out of business, wouldn't my failure tonight be part of your plan?"

Jimmy shifted on his feet and slipped both hands in his jeans pockets. "No. I never wanted that. Look, I'm sorry about my past behavior, but I'm here now and I'm willing to help if you'll let me," he offered sincerely, once again.

"Really? You're sure you want to spend your night in this mess?" you doubtfully asked while walking back toward the kitchen with Jimmy following in tow.

"I'm sure it's not that—whoa." Jimmy began to protest but then stopped short with eyes wide to see the state of your kitchen.

The past few hours had been a flurry of butter and flour and sugar, now with multiple recipes only partially finished. You had tried to maximize your time by using multiple mixers and weighing all the flour for each recipe, but in reality it had just split your attention. Now there was a mess on every surface and you felt like the small kitchen looked like the inside of your scattered brain.

Currently, you had cinnamon roll dough rising, so while you waited, you creamed some butter and sugar for cookies and also had just pulled croissant dough from the fridge to roll out with butter softening on the counter for tart dough. The idea of having a second pair of hands was appealing, but you didn't like having anyone in your kitchen, much less someone you didn't trust.