Having a baby in a bakery gives new meaning to taking the bun out of the oven. I'd been in Curmudgeon Bakery for one of those lemon baby-Bundt cakes I'd been craving since I found out I was pregnant. The draw had nothing to do with the baker himself. Tall, tatted, and edgy, looking more like a biker than a man who makes baked goods. I hardly knew him other than taking a tumble in a rainstorm in front of his shop . ...