"That’s easy and being a parent is challenging."
"But we’ll be doing it together. The sleepless nights, dirty diapers, the terrible twos and the teenage rebellion years. I’ll be at your side and when we’ve had a bad day, we can sit in bed and eat cupcakes with lashings of frosting or teddy bear cookies."
My mate groaned at the mention of the cookies. Though we sold some in the bakery, we’d donated the rest.
"Maybe we can enlist some of the neighbors to babysit." Zale yawned and pulled the covers up to his chin.
"They’ll be lining up. We’ll probably have to create a schedule and people will fight over whose turn it is to look after our little one." I turned off the lamp and we spooned. "My grandmother used to look after the kids next door and they’d help her in the bakery."
"I wish I’d met her”
"She would have loved you and she’d have been content seeing me happy andknowing her legacy was continuing with the next generation."
FOURTEEN
ZALE
The bakery had never been this busy. And considering we'd just survived Christmas, that was saying something.
We were in the middle of a bake-a-thon with the proceeds going to the Ridgedale Youth Fund. It was our way of giving back instead of having a traditional baby shower.
I surveyed the controlled chaos from my spot behind the counter. The display cases were packed with fresh goods. The ovens were running nonstop. Mrs. Trent and her friends were manning stations, taking orders and packaging baked goods as fast as we could produce them.
I was five months pregnant and despite Hawthorn's protests that I should nap every afternoon, I was energized. Morning sickness was behind me and I was in my second trimester and looking forward to the day I held our baby.
"You should sit down." Hawthorn appeared at my elbow with that worried look he'd been wearing for weeks. It was so sweet but we had four months before I gave birth. I feared waking up one morning and being cocooned in bubble wrap.
"I'm fine." I pressed a hand to my rounded stomach where our pup was currently doing acrobatics. “The baby's awake and says hi, you have to stop hovering."
He side-eyed me. "I’m not and the baby is saying you should rest more.”
"You absolutely are and our little one says you’re wrong.” I kissed him. "Go make more cookies. We're almost out of the chocolate chip." He grumbled but went back to work.
The line of customers stretched out the door. People had come from neighboring towns when word spread about what we were doing. Everyone wanted to support the cause and get some of Hawthorn's famous baked goods.
"This is amazing!" Adrian was beaming. "We've already raised over three thousand dollars and it's only noon."
Three thousand. My eyes stung with tears. Damn pregnancy hormones.
"That's wonderful." I should have been used to the tears that sprang up when I saw a puppy, a baby or an elderly person kissing their mate, husband or wife. I reached for the box of tissues, one of many I’d placed around the bakery and our apartment.
"The news crew should be here soon." The mayor was proud of his connection to a local TV station. "They want to interview you both about the bakery and the event."
I'd agreed to the interview because it would bring more attention to the fundraiser, but the thought of being on camera made my stomach clench. Or maybe that was the baby. It was hard to tell these days.
The bell chimed and a woman with a camera walked in, followed by a man with a microphone. I recognized the woman as areporter from the local news.
"Hi! I'm Annabel Courtis from Channel 7." She offered me her hand. "Thank you so much for letting us cover this. What you're doing is wonderful."
"Thank you for coming." I tried to ignore the camera pointed at us.
"Let me grab my mate." I called Hawthorn. He emerged from the back, flour coating his forearms as always, and I experienced that familiar warmth in my chest. Even dusted in flour and exhausted, he was still the most attractive man I'd ever met.
Annabel set up near the Easter egg display in the corner that I hadn't dismantled after the egg hunt we’d organized for the local kids last month. The camera guy positioned himself and suddenly we were live.
"I'm here at Hawthorn's Bakery in Ridgedale where owners Hawthorn and Zale are hosting a charity bake-a-thon," Annabel began. "All proceeds from today's sales are going to the Ridgedale Youth Fund to help local families in need. Hawthorn, Zale, thank you for talking with us."
"It’s our pleasure." Hawthorn took my hand.
