“Four days.Thankfully, we’re not open Christmas Eve, so I need to make it until Tuesday at six p.m.Then I plan on sleeping for at least forty-eight hours.”
I walked him to the door and pulled on a sweater I had draped over the couch while Saint pulled out his keys.
Pepper bounded toward the door like he knew this part of the routine.Salt was a few feet behind him.
Outside, the night was cold and quiet, with the porch light casting a soft glow over everything.The dogs wandered into the yard, sniffing and pacing while Saint and I stood close.
“I had a good time,” I said.
“Me too,” he replied.“Much better than a noisy bar.”
I smiled.“Yeah, I agree.It would have been weird if I took a nap in a bar.”
Saint chuckled and brushed a strand of hair from my face.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then Saint leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull back if I wanted.
I didn’t.
The kiss was soft and unhurried, warm despite the cold air.No urgency.Just a connection.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against mine.“I’ll see you soon.”
“I’d like that.”I wouldlovethat, but I didn’t want to seem so eager.
He stepped back, gave Salt one last scratch and Pepper a quick pat, then headed down the steps.
I watched him drive away, dogs flanking me like guards, and my chest light in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.
The night had been exactly what I needed.
And as I shut the door and locked it behind us, for the moment, everything was good, and I had a feeling with Saint being around it was going to stay that way.
Chapter Six
Belle
Saturday morning, my body officially hated me.
I woke up with my alarm blaring and the sensation that I’d been hit by a truck made entirely of rolling pins.My calves screamed when I swung my legs over the side of the bed.My hands were stiff, and my fingers were swollen from hours of piping icing and shaping dough the past three weeks.
I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to Salt snore at my feet and Pepper with his head on my pillow.
I knew this was going to be the only peaceful part of my day, and as much as I wanted to just stay in it, I had tons of gingerbread to make.
“Okay,” I muttered.“We’re doing this.”
Because what choice did I have?
I dragged myself up, pulled on leggings and a sweater that still smelled faintly like sugar, and tied my hair into a knot that didn’t care about appearances.Coffee went into my travel mug.Dogs went onto leashes.
Outside, the world was still sleeping.
Christmas lights blinked from every storefront as we walked the few blocks to Cookie Haven.Salt trotted like a professional escort.Pepper zigzagged, convinced every snowdrift held secrets.
The bell jingled as I unlocked the bakery door, and warmth hit us instantly.The smell of yesterday’s baking still hung in the air.
