Bab made them every year, and they’d become a town staple, with everyone lining up every morning for one of her pastries. Even though she was born and raised here, Bab had gone to Paris after high school to study at some fancy pastry school. Instead of staying there, she brought back her skills to open Bab’s Bistro on Main Street.
The eggnog cream puff—my favorite—was something she only made in November and December. Her last batch sold every year on December twenty-eighth.
Considering the last few weeks, I was glad to see this holiday season go, but I would miss the cream puff, which was why I was lining up to get one from the last batch.
Or maybe two. As I said, it’d been a rough season.
I almost didn’t come because this was something Archer and I always did together. The last thing I wanted or needed was a reminder of all the things we wouldn’t be doing again. A reminder of how badly I’d screwed up.
But the more I lay in bed, the angrier I got. Why should I skip on something I loved, something I wouldn’t get again for months, just because he was being a giant jerk? Hadn’t I already lost enough?
Besides, what better way to drown my sorrows than with a pastry filled with sugar?
When I arrived at the bistro, I worried I would be too late, that all the time I’d spent in bed contemplating my life choices this morning would rob me of my sweet treat. There was no line at the door, which could be a good thing or a bad thing.
A good thing because maybe everyone else was eggnog cream puffed out and there would be plenty left for me.
A bad thing because maybe the rush had already come through and there wouldn’t be any left.
Only one way to find out,I told myself and headed for the door. Just as I reached for the handle, a large body swooped in front of me, and I stumbled back. Surprised, I glanced up and let out a rude noise when I saw who it was.
Archer glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes devious and smirk scheming.
“What the hell, Archer?” I said, lunging for the door, but he beat me to it, sliding inside with more grace than I would ever have. Mad, I jerked the door open, making the bells tied to the handle bang instead of chime.
Everyone in the place stopped and looked up.
I flushed, completely embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s pretty windy out there.”
Everyone went back to what they were doing, but my cheeks still burned with embarrassment.
Archer’s low chuckle floated behind him, and my fingers curled into my palms.
I marched forward, but he was already ahead of me and got to the counter before I could. Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention to the glass case displaying all of Bab’s creations. There had clearly been a rush this morning, but thankfully, there were two cream puffs left.
The very last two of the year.
My mouth watered as I anticipated the rich but airy taste.
Archer took his sweet time glancing over everything as if he didn’t know exactly what was on the menu here, and I started to tap my foot against the tile impatiently.
“What can I get you, mon chéri?” Bab asked him.
“Hmm,” Archer mused as if he didn’t get the exact same thing every time.
One coffee with extra room for cream and sugar and one chocolate éclair.
He was taking forever on purpose.
“One large black coffee with extra room for cream and sugar,” he said. So freaking predictable. “And one—actually, no—make that two eggnog cream puffs.”
I stiffened, gaping at his back, wondering if I’d heard him right.
“You sure you don’t want a chocolate éclair?” Bab asked.
Because even she knew that was what he favored!
“I do love your éclairs, but I think I want to try something different today. Be adventurous.”
