When Liam nods at her to begin the class, she hops up with a seriousness no six-year-old should have.
She walks right to the front and announces proudly. “Welcome to Sweetheart Saturday! We’re making cookies. If your dough gets messy, that’s okay. Mine always does. Daddy fixes it.”
Liam closes his eyes like he’s trying not to laugh, or cry, out of secondhand stress.
I whisper, “She’s not wrong.”
“She’s not supposed to advertise it,” he whispers back.
The class begins and there’s an excitement from everyone, there’s a lot of accurate or inaccurate measuring of cups of flour, and couples debating whether they should follow the recipe exactly or wing it. Which has Liam intervening quickly whenever he hears the word wing.
I move through the room, helping people level flour, Liam shadows the other side of the room, adjusting dough textures, answering questions, and preventing Mark from igniting anything for fun.
And every time our paths cross, he touches me. Just lightly, a hand on my back, a brush of fingers on my arm. A small, warm connection that sends little sparks across my skin even though we’re standing in a bakery full of people.
I don’t mind the audience.
When the dough finally goes into the ovens, couples drift around the room chatting, sipping drinks, and admiring their future cookies. Maisie shows a couple how she presses heart shapes into hers, completely unaware of how charmed everyone is.
“She’s really in her element,” I say to Liam.
He stands beside me, his arm brushing mine. “She loves this stuff. She likes watching people be happy.”
“She gets that from you.”
He laughs under his breath but doesn’t disagree.
“You did well today,” he says a while later.
“So did you.”
Before he can say anything, Maisie darts over and grabs my sleeve.
“I have an announcement,” she says.
Liam stiffens instantly. “Oh no.”
“I’m retiring from matchmaking,” she says with a dramatic little sigh.
I kneel. “Retiring, huh?”
“Yes, because it worked. You like each other. Daddy smiles are all squishy. My job is done.”
Liam groans, I laugh, and Maisie beams.
“What are you going to do with your retirement?” I ask.
“I’m going to draw pictures and help Daddy bake, but not with the oven because he says it’s dangerous and maybe be a teacher. And eat cookies.”
“A full career,” I say.
She nods proudly and runs back to her drawing.
Liam exhales slowly. “She’s too observant.”
“She’s honest. That’s all.”
He steps closer, sliding one hand to my waist. The room is still noisy, but the second he touches me, everything else fades a little.
