I take a bite of the sandwich, savoring it before answering. “Since I was…I don’t know, sixteen? But I never thought I’d get the chance to actually do it.” I glance around, letting my eyes sweep over the room. “I mean, I’ve baked plenty with my grandmother, sure. But this…this is real.”
He nods slowly, “Feels different when it’s yours. Not borrowed, not temporary.”
For a moment, we sit in silence, just taking in the space. The sounds of the street outside filter through the windows, and the faint chatter of people walking by.
It’s almost peaceful.
Almost.
“You’re quiet,” he observes, leaning a little closer. “Thinking about paint, or planning every inch?”
“Both,” I admit. “I have ideas…a lot of them. I just don’t know if they’ll work.”
“They’ll work. I’ll make sure they do.”
I blink at him while I chew, completely caught off guard by his generosity and encouragement.
“So, after we figure this out, you and Lucy want to start moving things around? Shopping for supplies? Planning paint?”
“Yeah. We’ll need colors, shelves, display racks… I want it to be functional but cozy with a few plants.”
“Plants,” he repeats, smirking. “Gotta have a touch of life. Makes it feel like it’s yours, not just four walls and counters.”
I glance at him, my stomach fluttering.
He’s…paying attention.
Not in a creepy way, not hovering, but actually noticing what I want. And it’s disarming.
It’s working.
“Don’t think this means I’m suddenly going to like you,” I say, keeping my tone flat. “I’m still doing this for my own reasons.”
“Of course,” he says smoothly, finally taking a bite of his own sandwich. “I just enjoy watching you get excited about something.”
“Why?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because this isn’t real.”
“Isn’t it? You’re going to be marrying me soon enough.”
A wave of anxiety slices through my veins. “Not by choice.”
“And how do you think princesses wed back in the old days, huh? Every woman is waiting for the man who will sweep her off her feet, make her happy, and spend every day doting on her.”
“Not me,” I mutter, stealing another bite of my sandwich. “I just want the bakery.”
Ben chuckles. “Of course you did. But, I’d bet you a year’s salary that you’re going to start wanting that happy part.”
I bristle at his commentary because I’m not a girl who lives in a fairytale world. “You haven’t even met my grandmother yet for her approval. Who said anything about happy?”
“You wanna make a wager on that, princess?”
“No,” I immediately get out. “There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere close to my grandmother.
“Why? Aren’t I protecting and supporting her?”
