“You’re staring again,” Charles said without looking up from a particularly intricate rose.
“Can you blame me? You’re creating edible magic over there.”
He smiled, that soft, pleased expression that never failed to make my chest tight with affection. “It’s just buttercream and sugar paste.”
“In your hands, it’s art.”
Three weeks of being human, and I was still learning to navigate the intensity of mortal emotions again. As an angel, I’d felt things deeply but with a certain detachment—the way you might appreciate a beautiful sunset while knowing you’d see countless more over the centuries. Now, every moment with Charles carried weight because I understood, bone-deep, that our time together was finite and therefore infinitely precious.
A tap on the bakery window interrupted my thoughts. Solstice stood outside, cupping her hands against the glass to peer in, her wild hair barely contained by what looked like Halloween-themed hair clips shaped like tiny pumpkins.
Charles looked up, saw her, and immediately moved to unlock the door. “Sol, what are you doing here so late?”
“Saw the light on and thought I’d check if you two needed rescuing from cake-induced insanity,” she said, stepping inside and immediately gravitating toward Charles’s masterpiece. “Holy buttercream, this is incredible.” Shecircled the cake, taking in every detail. “The Hendersons are going to lose their minds.”
“It’s their fiftieth anniversary,” Charles explained. “They’re renewing their vows and wanted something special.”
“Mission accomplished.” Solstice turned to me, studying my face with those sharp green eyes that seemed to see everything. “You look different.”
“Different how?” I asked, though I had a feeling I knew what she meant.
“I don’t know. More…” She waved a hand vaguely. “Present, I guess? Like you’ve finally settled into yourself completely.”
Charles glanced at me, his expression soft.
“It’s love,” I said simply. “Makes a man feel at home in his own skin.”
“Ugh, you two are disgustingly romantic,” Solstice said, but she was beaming. “I love it. Anyway, I wanted to catch up. Charles mentioned you’re officially done in the city?”
We’d told her a sanitized version of what had gone down at the cabin, and her relief that Charles was now safe and Carlo was locked up had been instantaneous.
“All finished,” I confirmed. “I wrote all the required reports, did my deposition for the grand jury case against Carlo, and tied up the last administrative loose ends.”
“And I heard you got the job as a deputy?”
“I did. You’re looking at Deputy O’Rourke now.”
“Good. We need someone around here who actually knows how to solve crimes more complex than who stole Mrs. Patterson’s garden gnome.”
“It was the Miller boy, wasn’t it?” Charles asked, adding final touches to a sugar leaf.
“Every time. Kid’s got no imagination.” Solstice perchedon the edge of the work counter, careful not to disturb any of Charles’s tools. “So what’s the plan for you two? Are you just gonna be obnoxiously happy? Get married? Adopt a dog?”
“Sol,” Charles warned, his cheeks flushing pink.
“What? I’m just saying, I’ve got connections if you need a wedding planner. And I know exactly which florist to use.”
“We’ve been together for mere weeks,” I pointed out, though the thought of marrying Charles someday didn’t terrify me at all.
“So? When you know, you know.” Solstice shrugged. “My money’s on a spring wedding. Charles loves spring flowers, and by then, you’ll have had time to prove you’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, meeting Charles’s eyes across the workstation. “Ever.”
The promise hung between us, weighted with everything we couldn’t say in front of Solstice. That I’d chosen mortality for him. That I’d given up immortality and divine purpose for the chance to wake up beside him every morning for whatever time we were granted.
“Good,” Solstice said, apparently satisfied. “Because I’ve gotten attached to having you around, Deputy O’Rourke.”
“You can call me Eamon.”
