Hannah
Hannah woketo the gentle chime of her 4:30 AM alarm, reaching instinctively for Jake's warmth before her eyes were fully open. Her fingers found only cold sheets.
Right. He'd had that early job. Couldn't stay over.
She pulled his pillow closer, breathing in the lingering scent of his soap, and fumbled for her phone. No response to her good morning text yet, but that wasn't surprising. Normal people—people who didn't run bakeries—were still sleeping at this hour.
Maybe it was time to have that conversation. The one about his lease, about taking the next step. They practically lived together already—his toothbrush in her bathroom, his favorite coffee mug in her cabinet, his tools scattered around her apartment like he belonged there.
Because he did belong there. With her.
Hannah stretched, letting herself imagine it for a moment. Waking up to Jake every morning, not just most mornings. His clothes hanging next to hers in the closet. His razor on her sink,permanently this time. Not having to wonder if tonight would be a night he stayed over, because every night would be their night.
Her phone lit up with a weather alert—chance of rain later. She typed out another message for Jake to see once he was awake:
Might need help with that leaky awning if it rains. I'll make it worth your while...
The wooden floors were cool under her bare feet as she padded to the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her—dark hair tousled from sleep, wearing one of Jake's old t-shirts that she'd claimed months ago.
She should ask him tonight. About moving in together. About making this thing between them official in every way it could be.
After all, what was the point in waiting when you knew, deep in your bones, that you'd found your forever?
Hannah smiled at her reflection, already picturing Jake's face when she asked. He'd probably laugh, tell her he'd been waiting for her to bring it up. Maybe mention how half his stuff was here anyway.
Then he'd kiss her, slow and deep, the way only Jake could kiss—like she was precious, like she was everything.
She missed him this morning.
Even if only to see his sleeping face while she snuck out of bed and went to start the morning's bake. She was greedy for him—greedy for the way he fit into her world so perfectly. The way his arms wrapped around her in the middle of the night, instinctively pulling her close. The way he stole kisses before she'd even had her first sip of coffee.
Jake had a way of making her feelclaimed—protected, safe, loved.
Jake wasn't temporary. Not in her life. Not in her heart.
She knew—knew—that eventually, it wouldn't be "her bed" and "his apartment". It would be theirs. Their space. Their home.
She smiled to herself, dusting flour from her hands. Maybe tonight. Maybe after the bakery closed, when they were curled up on the couch, his big body warm against hers. Maybe she'd say it then.
Come live with me.
Hannah shook her head, laughing to herself. God, she had it bad.
And she didn't even care.
The scentof cinnamon and sugar curled throughSugar & Spice, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Hannah pulled the first tray of golden-brown croissants from the oven, the buttery layers flaking perfectly as she transferred them onto the cooling rack.
It was her favorite time of day—those quiet early morning minutes when the world was still stretching awake, when it was just her and the promise of another beautiful, predictable morning in Crystal Lake.
She flipped the sign on the front door toOpen, giving it an affectionate little tap.
"Let's do this."
The bell above the door jingled, and right on cue, Mary Peterson shuffled in, tapping her cane against the wooden floor.
"You're getting slower with my Danish, dear," Mary teased, her blue eyes sharp beneath a knitted cap. "I was about to break in and get it myself."
Hannah laughed, already reaching for a white paper bag. "I'd say that sounds unlikely, but knowing you, you'd find a way."
