“What’s that?”
“I’m gonna need you to make more.”
“You know how to make them now.”
“Are you kidding? I can’t do it without you. They won’t come out as good.”
“You just want to use me for my spices.”
“Guilty. However, I can ensure you gain street cred with our business name. How about Ginger Bakes?”
“I like the layered meaning, but I don’t bake in that sense.”
He shrugs. “No one else knows that.”
“I think we can do better,” I say.
He scratches his chin. “Baked with Ginger?”
I groan. “That’s so bad.”
“It’s so literal, it’s perfect.”
I give him a look over my coffee cup. “Your creativity is truly inspirational.”
He shrugs. “Mediocrity has its moments.”
“Hmm. That part I’ll give you.” I move to the other side of the kitchen. “I should wrap those bars up for you.”
“You kicking me out, G?”
I raise an eyebrow. “If I was, you’d know.”
“I think I might like to see that bossy side of you,” he comments, removing his apron and setting it on the counter.
Relieved to put a bit of distance between myself and his overwhelming presence, I exhale with a long sigh. Gripping the parchment paper, which overhangs each side of the pan, I lift the slab of pumpkin bars free, then set them on the counter. Typically, I let them cool much longer, but tonight I’m working with limited time. I grab a straight edged knife and begin cutting them. I wipe the steel clean between each pass, taking my time, making sure the pieces are all the same size. I use a thin spatula to lift each one into a box. I tuck parchment paper between the layers and then seal the lid closed with one of my shop’s logo stickers.
When I turn, I see he’s stepped back into the shop area and is taking a closer look at the merchandise on the shelves.
“These are for you.” I hold the box out to him.
He takes it, smiling. “You’re the best.”
“I’m happy to help out anytime.”
“Don’t tempt me. You’ll never get rid of me.”
Would that be so bad?
“You’re always welcome. But you already know that.”
He nods. “I do. I’m trying to figure out why I haven’t taken advantage of that until now.” He glances around the shop and then his gaze settles on me. “It’s nice being here with you.”
I pause, my heartbeat skipping as it only does around him. “I like having you here,” I say, softer than I mean to.
His warm eyes lock with mine. “You make this place feel like more than a coffee shop.”
I look around at all the things I see every day, and yet right now, with him standing here, it does feel like more.
