Page 27 of Beastly Mountain Man

“Did anyone tell him?” Lucky asked.

“Absolutely not. We congratulated him and moved on.”

“That feels dishonest.”

“That is called producing.”

His laugh carried across the table.

At some point we stopped talking.

The quiet stretched.

Bear slept near the hearth, his paws twitching against the rug. Snow brushed the windows with a soft, persistent whisper. The fire settled behind the screen with occasional cracks from the burning wood.

I could hear the refrigerator humming.

Lucky took a sip of wine.

I did not reach for my phone.

A minute passed, maybe more.

Nothing needed to fill it.

Eventually I looked at the cake cooling on the counter.

“I believe we have unfinished business.”

Lucky followed my gaze. “I was wondering when you’d remember dessert.”

“I never forgot dessert. I was exercising patience.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Let’s not make this emotional.”

The buttercream was soft enough to spread, and Lucky handed me the offset spatula.

I eyed it.

“That looks sharp-adjacent.”

“It isn’t sharp.”

“I appreciate the technical clarification.”

The first pass went smoothly.

The second created a ridge in the frosting.

I tried to flatten it and made another one.

Lucky stood beside me while I attempted a third correction.

“You know you’re allowed to leave it like that.”

“I know.”