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Her brows damn near hit her hairline. “Uh…What?”

I grabbed her by the hips and moved her aside, then hauled the sack off the dolly, carried it to the rack by the mixer, and went back for the next one.

Then the next, all the while, Joy stood watching me like I was an alien she was seeing for the first time.

“You know I do that every single day, right?” she finally said. “By myself.”

I grunted. “I got it.”

“I’m aware you’ve got it, but that’s not the point.”

Setting the last one down, I turned around. “Why don’t you have any help early in the morning?”

It was bullshit. She was a small woman alone in not the best part of town. Who knew what could happen to her if someone managed to get in the place when she was working alone.

So no. It wasn’t acceptable at all.

“Because until I hire another baker, it’s just me.” She brushed a strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her arm. “I’ve had the sign up for months, but I haven’t had a chance to go through the resumes so I can set up interviews.”

“Nobody comes in with you?”

“No,” she answered like I was an idiot for asking. “And just saying, but I’m a whole grown ass woman. I can handle things just fine by myself.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not insinuating that you can’t.”

Okay, maybe I was, but shit. She needed someone to look out for her.

I wasn’t going to tell her that, though. If I did, she’d kick my ass to the curb.

“So.” I glanced around her kitchen again, only now all the donuts were done. How had I missed that?

“Anyway.” She clapped her hands together, and a little cloud of flour went up. “I’ve got to run up and let Murphy out before the girls get here. If you’re staying, don’t touch the ones on the left rack. They’re not cool yet.”

“I’m staying.”

I didn’t know why I said it, but seeing the surprised look on her face before she disappeared out the back door made it worth it.

Ten minutes later, I heard Joy on the steps and walked out the back door.

My lips turned up at the sight.

The woman was a fuckin’ nut.

She was standing at the top of the landing in four inch hot pink heels, and she was using a piece of string cheese to coax her hundred and ninety-pound monster dog down the steps.

“Come on, you big bastard,” she growled. “You’re too fat for me to carry down the steps.”

The dog looked at the step, then looked at her like she was crazy if she thought he was going to do it without a nibble of that cheese.

“Murphy.” She sighed. “Please be helpful.”

She dropped to her haunches and went to slide her arm under him, and I knew what she was about to do.

“Oh, hell no.” I started up the steps, taking them two at a time. “The last thing I need is you falling down the stairs and the big fucking dog landing on top of you. Your brother will shoot me on the spot.”

“He can’t do stairs anymore,” she said breathlessly. “His hips are bad. I have to⁠—”

“No, you don’t. From now on, when he needs to go down the steps, you knock on my door. Now move.”