I never tired of watching his face light up after taking the first bite. While he was enthusiastic about all the treats I baked, a special tenderness filled this reaction.
His contented sigh rumbled softly against my shoulder. “They smell delicious.” For one peaceful moment, he simply held me, resting his cheek lightly against my hair. Then I felt him shift.
I smiled before he even fully moved. “Gabe…”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You’ve thought about doing something.”
“I may have considered several possibilities.” Still keeping one arm snugly around my waist, he stretched his free hand around me towards the cooling rack with all the exaggerated stealth of someone who had absolutely no experience being sneaky. “I can see you,” I said, feigning annoyance with no more success than his stealth.
“I’m being very subtle.” His fingertips closed triumphantly around the smallest scone. “You once told me the bakery offers samples, and I believe this one volunteered.” Before I could rescue it, he’d already broken off a warm corner.
Steam curled upward as he tasted it. The same wonderfully earnest smile spread slowly across his face, exactly as it had the very first time I’d watched him eat one. No enchanted pastry had ever been as rewarding as watching happiness bloom across the face of someone I loved.
He finished the last bite and brushed a kiss across my flour-dusted cheek. “I couldn’t resist. Am I forgiven?”
I turned to look at him properly. His grin was unrepentant with a hint of mischief, while his hair was still hopelessly untidy from sleep, inviting me to run my fingers through it. A fresh green leaf peeked from the pocket of his vest beside the journal he still carried everywhere.
I tried to look stern, but the warmth and hint of mischief dancing in his dark eyes made the effort entirely impossible. I dipped my finger into the bowl of lemon glaze I’d been preparing and reached up to press a dab across the end of his nose.
Cross-eyed, he attempted to look at the glaze now decorating the end of his nose before giving up. “I’ve been ambushed.”
“You’ve been appropriately punished. But I’m only doing you a favor—my scones taste best with the lemon glaze.”
He nodded gravely. “I suppose I deserved that.” Then, with perfect seriousness, he leaned closer until our noses almost touched.
I gave a squeal, but before he could transfer the sticky glaze to me, a pink flash whirled between us, and Nutmeg claimed the sweet prize with an eager swipe of her tongue. Gabe blinked in surprise, then chuckled.
“I suppose I’ll just have to sample another one…only this time, I want something much sweeter than even my favorite scones.” Before I realized his intention, he had stolen another kiss, this time on my lips.
I laughed and his expression became unbearably pleased with himself. “I win again today.” Ever since we became acouple, he’d made it his personal mission to coax a smile or laugh from me every day. So far he had yet to lose.
“You are entirely too charming,” I informed him. “That counts as cheating.”
“I’ll happily accept the accusation.” He slipped his flour-covered hand into mine. “I’ve discovered cheating is much easier when the prize is another kiss.”
I laughed again. At the cheerful sound, his smile softened into something quieter, causing my heart to flutter in the way only he could make it. He grinned in triumph, before leaning down to sweep another kiss, this time at the corner of my growing smile. “There’s my smile,” he murmured.
“You’re still watching for it?”
“I’ll never tire of seeing you so happy.”
My heart swelled with all the love I felt for this dear man. There had been a time when I believed surrendering my emotions would spare me from pain. Now I could scarcely comprehend how I had ever mistaken emptiness for peace. Even the ordinary disappointments that quietly accompanied a shared life—had filled my days with a richness no magic could ever imitate.
Gabe had somehow found a way to weave love into every one of them, causing even difficult days to end with laughter more often than not.
Granny looked up from the table where she was rolling pie crust and smiled with quiet amusement. The deep lines time had etched across her face remained, but the weariness that had once shadowed every movement had gradually faded. These days she bustled about the bakery with far more energy than she’d had even when I was a young child, insisting she was perfectly capable of carrying flour sacks herself, despite Gabe and I repeatedly proving otherwise.
The village apothecary had become one of our most faithful customers. In return, Granny rarely allowed him to leave without an extra loaf of honey bread tucked beneath his arm. Between his medicines, her stubbornness, and an alarming amount of fresh air, she had grown stronger with every passing season.
Unfortunately, so had her matchmaking ambitions. No sooner had Gabe and I returned from our honeymoon than she began remarking upon how charming small footsteps would sound echoing through the bakery.
“They would certainly keep Nutmeg occupied,” she’d observed only yesterday.
“They would certainly keepyouoccupied,” I had corrected. “Nutmeg would simply add to the chaos.” She’d merely smiled in the infuriating way grandmothers do whenever they believe time is entirely on their side.
Nutmeg landed upon the counter with all the dignity of royalty before immediately attempting to drag the sugar bowl towards herself. I raised a single eyebrow and she froze. Very slowly, she uncurled her glowing form from the bowl and looked at me with an expression of perfect innocence. With an indignant chirp, she abandoned the sugar altogether and floated onto Gabe’s shoulder instead, where she proceeded to glare at me as though I had grievously wronged her.
