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“Brioche okay?”
“Sure.”
I also pulled out some lettuce and tomato and our special aioli to put on the top.
Alivia watched as I made her the sandwich, cut it in half, and pushed it across to her on a plate.
“There you go,” I said, licking some sauce off the side of my hand. “Oh, shoot, you need something to drink. Water? Lemonade? Iced tea?”
“Iced tea is fine,” she said. I poured a glass for her and then a half lemonade, half iced tea for myself.
Alivia looked down at her sandwich and then up at me as if she didn’t know what to do with it.
“Do you not want it?” She should have stopped me before I made it wrong.
“No, not at all. But it feels weird eating when you’re not.”
Oh.
I quickly made myself the same sandwich and sat down on the stool next to her.
“How’s that?” I asked, picking up half of my sandwich.
“Much better,” she said, mirroring me.
We ate our sandwiches and I kept sneaking glances at her.
“Is it good?” I asked.
“Very good,” she said after she’d swallowed. “I love the sauce, what is that?”
“It’s a special aioli and I can’t tell you what’s in it or my aunt will actually kill me,” I said with a laugh. I snuck a glance through the window in the door between the kitchen and the front of the bakery and was surprised that I didn’t see Martha’s face pressed against it, watching us.
“Then I won’t ask,” Alivia said, taking another bite of sandwich.
She ate the whole thing quickly, so I had the feeling she’d been really hungry.
“Do you want another one?” I asked and she shook her head.
I found a cherry tart and put that on a plate for her because I knew it was her favorite, even if she hadn’t directly told me so.
“I like feeding you. Deal with it,” I said as I saw her starting to protest. “Just let me feed you, Alivia. I’m stubborn.”
That made her laugh. “Yeah, you are.”
She ate the cherry tart.
* * *
When we were both done, I put the plates and everything in the sink and Alivia finished her iced tea. Her phone vibrated with a message and she frowned as she read it.
“And back to reality. I’ve got to get to the inn. One of the washers stopped working.” She sighed heavily. “It’s always something.”
I really wanted to kiss her goodbye, so I made sure that no one was watching through the door, pressed myself up on my tiptoes and then gave her a peck.
“Sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that since you walked in here,” I said, looking into her eyes.
“So have I,” she said, as a loud noise made us spring apart.
