Finn
“This way,” I tell Millie, placing a hand on her back to guide her toward the door of Maggie’s.
In the setting sun, this street is a completely different world. The cafés and shops illuminate their patios with candles and dim lanterns, and twinkly lights hang over the road, giving the whole area an undeniably romantic feel.
She stops as we reach the door and grins up at me, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the lights above us. I scan the slopes of her cheeks, the freckles across her nose, the rich pink of her lips, and the slightest bit of cleavage above the neckline of her Neptune-blue dress.
She’s fucking breathtaking.
We haven’t seen each other since Lena picked her up last Saturday, and the craving to be near her has been a constant ache in my lungs.
“You are so beautiful,” I whisper, unable to stop myself.
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Thank you.”
I nod and keep my lips pressed shut before I say something more. This isn’t supposed to be a date, and I don’t want to push her past her limits.
Pulling open the door, I bring us into the dark dining area. Chairs are stacked on the tables, and the usual whir of the espresso machine is missing. I steer Millie to the swinging half door that leads behind the counter. The coffee shop closed a few hours ago, but we have an appointment with Maggie this evening.
Her feet pause on the threshold like she’s hit a barrier. “We can’t go back there.”
“We’re super special guests tonight.” I wink and pull her hand until she starts moving again.
Millie gasps when she sees what’s waiting for us through the kitchen door—stainless steel worktables and Maggie with a whole slew of things we’re going to get to work on. Millie looks over her shoulder at me like I’ve produced her personal version of paradise.
“Good evening,” Maggie greets us with a grin. She pauses from rolling out some sort of pastry dough to dust her hands down her espresso-colored apron.
“Do we get to see your process?” Millie asks, turning in a circle to examine every nook and cranny of the kitchen. Open shelves fill one wall, covered in endless baking ingredients I could never identify. A few commercial ovens and refrigerators line the sides, along with shelves full of supplies.
“You’re doing it yourself.” Maggie laughs, stepping around the table to hug Millie. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“Oh, just busy,” Millie says with a hint of evasiveness. “I miss it here, though.”
Surprise flickers through me. I didn’t know she hadn’t been here in weeks. I haven’t seen her here since the time she saw her ex.
Is that why?
Laying my hand on her lower back, I make a mental note to ask her about that later.
“Well, I’m happy to see you.” Maggie waves around the kitchen. “I heard you’ve been trying to make almond croissants at home, and it hasn’t been working.” She moves to a rolling shelf of baking trays and pulls out two of them.
Millie looks at me with mock betrayal. “You told her that? Can’t tell this guy anything,” she grinds out and bumps me with her hip.
Maggie chuckles. “Well, be happy he did, because he’s hired me to teach you while I prep for tomorrow.”
***
“They’re perfect!” Millie claps as Maggie pulls the tray of croissants out of the oven.
Maggie has been so patient and kind for the last hour while she taught Millie as much as she could about making croissants. She had prepared a few different stages of the dough ahead of time so that Millie could do an expedited version of the steps. I had no idea making croissants was a multiday process.
As they work, Millie has been entertaining Maggie with details of my own kitchen disasters, but that’s alright.
She can tease me all she wants when she looks at me withthatsmile. The one that illuminates the whole room and melts me from the inside out.
“Now, while these cool for a few minutes,” Maggie says, carefully picking up the first almond croissant and setting it on a rack, “you two go enjoy your dinner.” She nods toward the door to the front of the shop.
In the dining area, we find a table in the middle, lit by candles that Maggie snuck out here and set up a few minutes ago. The strings of lights from outside shine through the windows, and the shop’s perpetual coffee smell fills the air. I didn’t ask for this romantic setup; I only hired her for the croissant-making. But I have to admit it’s perfect.
