I clear my throat. “Now that you’re all alone, can I make a suggestion?”
She pauses mid-wipe, brow slightly furrowed. “Mm? Uh, maybe?”
I give her a small grin. “Since we’re officially all caught up here, how about we make one last batch of cookies, just for us?” I tilt my head toward the door. “No interruptions from nosey littlesisters, no distractions. Just you, me, and some chocolate chip cookies.”
“At your place?” She looks up at me, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. Her eyes flick to mine and away again, then back—brighter this time, like she’s trying not to get ahead of herself. “With the secret ingredient?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Think of it as a reward. For overcoming a disaster, and for being an incredible baker.”
She exhales, almost laughing, shaking her head. “Incredible baker, huh? That’s a stretch. But, okay. I guess I could be persuaded by cookies.”
I stalk toward her, needing to touch her again. Cupping her face in my hands, I say, “Youareincredible, Em. An incredible baker and an even better person.”
“You don’thave tosay things like that, Hayes.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I’m always going to.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to stretch up on her toes and kiss me again, but at the last second, she pulls back and reaches for her coat instead.
“Let’s get out of here before I lose my courage and change my mind.”
I follow her out of the building, one hand on the small of her back. She pulls the key from her pocket and locks up behind us.
“Shoot,” Em hisses when she turns around after locking the door. “I drove in with Evie this morning.”
“Lucky for you, my truck is parked right there.” I nod at my beat-up old Ford F-150 that I’ve had since I started driving.
“I still can’t believe you haven’t traded that thing in,” she says with a shake of her head.
“Hey, that black truck hasneverfailed me,” I chuckle. I can’t say it runs as good as it did in the 90’s but I’ve always kept it well-maintained. One day, I’ll buy something new. But there’s no way I’m getting rid of this ol’ truck.
I open the door for Emmy and help her climb in the passenger seat, resisting the all-consuming urge to lean in and kiss her. It’s one thing for someone to see us drive away together, it’s a totally different thing for the two of us to get caught making out before she’s ready for the whole town to know about us.
Once she’s tucked inside, I round the truck and climb in the driver’s seat.
When we pull up outside my house, I kill the engine and look over at her. “Home sweet home,” I say, sliding the key out of the ignition.
“This sounds really stupid now, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen your house. Not since you moved out of your parents’ place, I mean,” she murmurs, taking in the cozy Cape Cod–style house dusted with a soft layer of evening frost.
I shrug like it’s no big deal. Like I didn’t buy this house picturing a future with Emmy in mind.
“Wait until you see the kitchen. It’s where all the magic happens.” I wink.
Emmy snorts and rolls her eyes at me.
“Stay put. I’ll be right there to open your door,” I tell her before jumping out of the truck and doing just that.
I lead the way until up the porch steps and unlock the front door.
Emmy follows me inside, shedding her coat and scarf.
The kitchen is bright, clean, and smells faintly of vanilla and pine from the little diffuser I keep running this time of year. Countertops gleam, the mixer sits ready, and a stack of bowls and measuring spoons await. I didn’t plan to bring Emmy back here tonight, but Ididhave plans for making some cookies at some point this week.
“Ta-da,” I say, gesturing like a magician revealing his trick. “All ours for the next batch of cookies.”
Her eyes light up, and for a second, I forget to breathe. “Hayes, this entire place is adorable," she says, spinning around in the space between the living room and kitchen.
I know the moment she catches a glimpse of the mantel above the fireplace.
