Aileen passed him a mug of something warm and cocoa-like. “Sit,” she said. “I want a six-word summary, no more, no less.”
“Who’s working in the bakery, Santa Claus? Or did he loan you an elf or two?”
“Sam’s here. Now where’s my summary?”
He rolled his eyes. “Why six words?”
“It’s the rule,” she said.
“Who invented it?”
“I did. Now stop being so exasperating and tell me.”
“Fine, but I’m going with safe-for-work vocabulary.” He exhaled, thinking. “Snowstorm. Fire. Coffee. Him. Good morning.”
Aileen’s face glowed. She touched his hand, squeezing it lightly. “I’m happy for you.”
His throat thickened. “It’s early days, okay? It’s not official.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed in that older-sister-I-know-everythingway.
He stared at his cocoa. Last night had been unexpected. Intense. And this morning had been?—
Different.
Real.
He wasn’t naïve. He knew early days could be bright and flaring. But something about Noah wasn’t a spark; he was a steady light, warm and deliberate.
What terrified Eli was how easy it was to want that warmth again.
And that wasn’t something he was about to share with his sister.
“What are we doing this morning?”
“Dough prep first. I’m expecting a morning rush. And you’re helping.”
Eli removed his coat and scarf, rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, and launched himself into work. It wasn’t long before the smell of rising dough and caramelized sugar wrapped around the bakery like a blanket. As he worked, one thought hummed beneath everything like an undercurrent.
Tonight.
I’ll see Noah tonight.
But as the morning wore on, seeds of doubt took root. Eli couldn’t deny the sex had been awesome, and that wasn’t because it had been way too long since he’d gotten physical with a guy. What worried him was the possibility that he might be reading too much into one shared night. He tried to ignore such thoughts as he smiled, bagged up pastries and rolls, and chatted with locals who were growing more familiar with each passing day. He recognized more and more faces, the memories flooding back.
The locals who were becoming used to seeing him too, judging by the comments and questions. More than once, he caught Noah’s name, and some of the customers didn’t bother to hide their grins.
“Help me bring in the trays,” Aileen murmured when there was a lull in the cavalcade of tourists demanding cinnamon rolls the size of small planets. She tugged him into the back, but once they were out of sight of the customers, she rounded on him.
“What is going on with you? What happened last night? Did you get struck by romantic lightning or something?”
“You’ve had your summary. Didn’t it tell you everything you wanted to know?”
Aileen rolled her eyes. “Hardly. Okay, so you didn’t come right out and say it, but it doesn’t take a mind reader to know you slept with him.” She had a grin like a shark. “And it’s clearly addled your senses. Your head has been all over the place this morning.” Her eyes glittered. “He must really be something in bed.”
He nearly knocked a tray off the counter. “Aileen!”
“What?” She swatted his arm. “I’m not judging, I’m celebrating.”
