I snort. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She sets her coffee down and hops up onto the counter like she used to in my old apartment, completely ignoring the very professional, very real business we’re standing in.
Some things never change.
I work steadily through the familiar motions of preparing the shop for customers. The peaceful stillness before opening is still my favorite part of the day.
It feels like endless possibility.
Like anything in the world could happen.
The bell over the door chimes again.
Neither of us looks up right away.
“Signs not flipped,” Kara calls out automatically. “We’re not open for another—”
“Relax,” a deep, familiar voice cuts in.
My whole body stills, half inside one of the display cases, while rotating the macarons for maximum freshness.
Kara’s head snaps toward the front with a smirk. “Oh, look. The other half of your personality just walked in.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile that pulls at my mouth as I turn.
Alex stands just inside the door, unfastening the buttons on his sleeves and carefully rolling them up to his elbows in neat creases. I try not to stare as his forearms flex with the movement.
His gaze finds mine immediately and everything else fades a little at the edges. It’s not the dramatic, overwhelming, knock-the-breath-out-of-you kind of moment like it used to be, but it’s full and familiar, and that just might be even better.
“Hey, pretty girl” he says as he crosses the space between us without a single ounce of hesitation. One hand comes to rest lightly at my waist as he leans in, pressing a quick, easy kiss to my lips.
The butterflies in my stomach kick up like they always do, still, after all this time, because this incredible man is somehow mine.
“Morning,” he murmurs against me.
“Morning.”
And just like that, he pulls back, already reaching for a clean apron like he didn’t just rewire my entire brain with that kiss.
Kara makes a dramatic gagging sound behind us. “Wow. Disgusting. You guys are really leaning hard into the whole domestic bliss thing, huh?”
“You moved in next door by choice.” Alex calls over his shoulder, not breaking his stride toward our shared prep kitchen. I fall into step behind him, looping an arm through Kara’s and dragging her along with us.
“I make sacrifices for this business,” she says solemnly.
“For the record,” I add, grabbing a whisk from the utensil rack as we pass, “you also make yourself at home in my fridge, and I feel like that’s repayment on its own.”
“That’s calledcommunity, Taylor!” She shoots back.
Alex huffs out a quiet laugh, stepping up beside me at the counter while I’m silently reading the prep list.
“Where do you want me?” he asks in a low voice.
The timbre sends a shiver down my spine, because that tone is laced with alternative meaning and innuendo. But we have too much to do and too little time, so I don’t take the bait.
Instead, I glance at him, pulling a face before I answer.
