He smiled. “I got it in case you wanted something different than yours,” he said. “I know that one is pretty sweet. And this way you get to try two of my favorites.”
“That’s so nice,” she said in a whisper. She looked so touched.
He had noticed that she was always surprised when he did nice things for her, as if she wasn’t expecting it. But why wouldn’t he? He saw how much she did for others; it was only fair that someone tried to care for her the same way she cared for others, and he wanted to be that someone.
They went and sat on one of the benches, switching their hot chocolates back and forth until the flavors mingled and mixed to become something better, bitter and strong and sweet.
“On to the next stop,” he said, standing. They tossed theircups, and he led her down the pathway beneath a canopy of fairy lights towards a little shop. The scent of cinnamon, ginger, and allspice wafted toward them.
“Ooh, what’s this?” she asked.
“Gingerbread cookies,” he explained. “In the summer, the shop sells ice-cream, and in the fall, it’s apple cider donuts, but all winter they have gingerbread cookies.”
“What about the spring?”
“Berry crumble.”
“I love that.”
They walked up, and he ordered them a cookie each. The old woman managing the store gave Luke a fond smile, handing him the cookies in parchment bags. They were still hot, and he brought them over to Emmeline, handing one to her.
“It’s a winter staple,” he said. “I’ve also been coming here forever.”
Emmeline brought the cookie up to her nose, inhaling the smell of the freshly baked gingerbread. She hummed to herself, and he smiled. He would always do that, too.
“Go on, taste it,” he said, waiting. She pulled the cookie out of the parchment, then went straight for the jugular, devouring the head in one bite. He laughed.
“I should have expected such savagery,” he said, shaking his head.
“The head is the best part!”
“Poor gingerbread man,” he replied, “but now he knows how I feel. You’re always biting my head off.”
“Rightfully so.” She snorted. “You are always frustrating me.”
“And what exactly is it that you think you do to me?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you weren’t going to fight with me anymore.”
“Was that the agreement? I thought we weren’t going to fight with each other.”
She pretended to think about it, tapping her chin with her index finger. “No, I think you weren’t going to fight withme. I never fight anyway.” She shrugged, and he laughed, holding his hands up in defeat. She smiled to herself, pleased.
They walked around, finishing off the cookies. Clouds gathered out of nowhere, covering the stars, but it didn’t matter because soon, snow began falling, a soft flurry of sparkling flakes glittering in the sky.
Emmeline looked up, her eyes wide with delight. He watched as a snowflake landed on her bottom lip, melting upon contact. His body ached.
A smile spread across her face, one of pure wonder and joy. He’d never seen her look like such a kid, and his heart went soft. It had snowed almost every day this winter, and yet, she was as awed as if it was her first time seeing snowfall.
“Winter’s my favorite season,” she said, turning to look at him. “I never get tired of it. Look!” Palms outstretched, she held her hands up to catch snowflakes. He smiled, not tearing his gaze away from her.
“Pretty,” he said, but he didn’t mean the snow. A flush crept up her cheeks again.
She had been acting shy in moments throughout the day, even a little nervous, and he hadn’t expected such behavior from the usually bold and confident Emmeline Sterling—but he found that he liked it. He wanted to know every version of her, every possibility and iteration.
Then, he noticed that she was catching the snowflakes with her bare hands. “You didn’t bring any gloves?” he asked, brows furrowed.
She shook her head. “I forgot.”
