I loved him so much and was proud of how he handled work and me and the customers. And as for me, I was calmer with my mate at my side,making the stress of the holiday rush bearable.
Around eleven, carol singers set up outside. Their voices drifted through the door every time it opened. "Silent Night," "O Come All Ye Faithful," "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." All of the carols were traditional and comforting.
"I love this." We were experiencing a brief lull in bakery traffic. My mate was leaning against the counter, watching the carol singers through the window as the snow fell. "This whole small-town Christmas atmosphere. It's so different from what I grew up with."
"What were your Christmases like?" I'd been afraid to ask much about his family and what he'd run from. But we were mates now. I wanted to know everything.
“They were formal and cold." He shrugged. “With lots of expensive gifts and political maneuvering. My parents used the holidays to show off and to arrange advantageous connections. I was another asset to be displayed. My brothers never seemed to mind but I didn’t want anyone choosing what my life would be."
I wrapped my arms around his waist. "You're not an asset. You're everything."
Zale leaned back against me. "I know. That's why I'm here."
We watched the snow fall and listened to the carols, enjoying the quiet in the bakery before the bell chimed and the rush started again.
By three o'clock, we'd fulfilled the last order. The bakery was finally empty. I locked the front door and flipped the sign to "Closed."
I couldn't remember if I’d ever actually closed for the holiday. There was always one more customer who needed something. But this year, I had Zale. And spending Christmas working instead of with my mate wasn't an option.
"We're really closed?" He came up behind me.
“Yep.”
"So what do we do now?"
I faced him. "Whatever we want."
His eyes lit up. He pulled out his phone and a moment later, Christmas music filled the bakery. Not carols but something jazzy and upbeat. Ella Fitzgerald singing about chestnuts roasting.
"Dance with me.” He offered me his hand.
"I don't dance."
"You do now." He grabbed me and pulled me into the middle of the bakery, between the display cases and the Christmas tree he'd put up.
I let him lead me into a slow sway. I wasn’t good at it and kept stepping on his feet. Not that it mattered. Zale laughed. We’d been such fools to ignore what was in our hearts for so long.
"I love you."
"I know." Zale grinned. "You show me every day how much you care for me."
"I still need to say it."
"Well, I love you too." He pressed closer. "And I'm really glad you're mine."
"Me too."
We swayed for three more songs before I finally pulled away. "We should clean up and get upstairs. It's been a long day."
“The longest week ever," he agreed. "But also the best week of my life."
We cleaned the bakery together, putting away supplies and wiping down counters. The routine was familiar but now when we passed each other, we put a hand on each other’s back and stole kisses between tasks.
When we finally made it upstairs to our apartment, we were both exhausted. I collapsed onto the couch with Zale tucked against my side.
"Merry Christmas," he murmured.
"It's not Christmas yet. We still have a few hours."
