Merry
"What's wrong?" Beckett asks, seeming to be aware my body has straightened and I'm on high alert.
"The weather report," I gesture to my laptop. "They're calling for a large storm tonight into Christmas Eve. Look at all these orders that have to go out on Christmas Eve," I move my arm over to gesture at the wall. "My plan was to work on them a little at a time, but if I can't get out tomorrow, they're not going to get done. A lot of them were prepaid, Beckett," I suck my bottom lip in between my teeth. "These customers will expect them to be available when they get here on Christmas Eve."
"Even with a big storm, like they're saying?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.
"They will always plow into the main town thoroughfare, which means people will be able to get to the bakery. Some may c
