I flushed at the smirk on Agnes’s face and ducked my head. It was no secret that Callum and I had continued what we’d started on our winter walk days before. I spent the majority of my hours with Agnes in the shop, but in the stolen moments between orders and customers Callum filled my time with laughter and conversation. Oh, and kisses. Lots and lots of kisses, to be exact, and my apartment’s proximity to his workplace had proved to be too great a temptation. I’d never known a printing press or ream of paper could be as romantic a setting as any when the man in front of you was everything you’d ever wanted.
Callum was the most unexpected consequence of my leaving home, and I had to pinch myself to make sure it had happened. That I was really here, that the Scotsman waiting for me after work to walk me home was mine. I loved how easily our conversation flowed, how warm and gentle his hand was as he held mine. There wasn’t a moment he made me feel unheard.
It was a heady experience, and I knew I looked like a lovesick fool, which was more than fine with me because Callum was, in a word, attentive.
It had set the town abuzz. There was no shortage of gossip following us on our evening walks through town. Callum had never been seen as he was now, soft-eyed and smiling, which sent the gossip circuit into overtime.
If tonight was replete with all the romantic trimmings Callum had boasted, then our attendance would give them plenty more to talk about. Chief among the gossipers was Agnes, and I shook my head at her wagging eyebrows. The woman was entertained by herself, if her giggles were anything to go by, and I laughed along with her.
“I’m sure he will be,” I said, tying one last bow on a package of shortbread.
“Oh, I ken he will. What do you think of six months?” she asked, throwing her arms around me again, pinning my arms to my side. “A month is so fast, but six months would give you time to settle in.”
It was hard not to laugh or smile with Agnes when she was this excited. I managed to get an arm free to hug her close. “Six months would be perfect!”
She beamed up at me. “The best New Year’s decision ye’ll make.”
Agnes’s good mood was infectious, and by the time Callum arrived to walk me home I was in high spirits. Though, when I looked behind us at the pile of cookies and breads that had yet to be picked up, I hesitated.
“What about those?” I asked with a concerned look. I didn’t want Agnes staying here all night on her own while she waited on stragglers. She was supposed to meet us at the celebration in an hour’s time, which would be a miracle judging by the pile of baked goods still left in the shop.
She waved a hand. “Dinna fash, lass.”
“But you’re coming to the dance, aren’t you?”
She hummed and gave me a smile as she took off her apron. “Leaving right after the two of ye.”
I frowned and pointed at the customer orders on the counter. “But what about those? I thought you said they were for today?”
“Oh, they are, but I’m not delivering them.”
“How—” I began, but Callum’s hand on my wrist stopped me. He had a pinched look on his face, and he blew out an exasperated sigh.
“Auntie, if you need, I’ll drive the orders out.”
“No need, dear. The fey folk have it.”
Callum frowned. It was slight and brief, just the barest turn of his lips before it was gone, and he looked away from Agnes, who didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered.
“Callum,” I tried, putting a hand on his arm and pulling him toward me. “Just this once.”
“Just this once what?” he asked. I looked behind us where Agnes was busy locking up and singing Auld Lang Syne to herself as she worked.
“Just believe her.”
The look that passed over Callum’s face was downright stormy, so I raised up a hand to stop him when he opened his mouth to speak. “It means a lot to her. If she says the fey will do it then...maybe they will.”
“Del…”
His voice was low and husky, just the way I liked it, but this wasn’t from one of our stolen moments together. It was from barely contained annoyance. “No one has to know,” I said. “It will make her happy.”
Callum’s eyes fluttered shut at that and he took in a deep breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, blowing out the breath in a long sigh. When he took in another breath and repeated the gesture I gave him a poke.
“Are you yoga breathing?” I asked in disbelief. Callum cut a fine image in his heavy coat and work boots. When I’d last seen him he’d been unloading heavy reams of paper and in the middle of repairing the oldest of all the presses. From the oil and ink smeared on his hands he’d been busy right up until he’d come by the bakeshop.
He nodded, sucking in another deep breath. “I am. The both of ye are going to drive me out of my mind, or give me a stroke.”
“You’re so dramatic,” I told him, but he ignored me and continued on as Agnes bustled around us, a broom in one hand and a bunch of juniper branches in the other.
