I spun around. The timer was going off. Loudly.
“Dang it. James!” I shouted. “Something’s burning!”
James flew out of the kitchen a second later. “I knew I smelled something toasty, Move!”
He skidded past me, yanked the tray out of the oven, and cursed under his breath. The muffins were very, very brown. One looked like it had been through a small house fire.
I cleared my throat. “So… turns out I’m not good with high end ovens.”
James gave me a look, trying not to smile. “I’ve known you for months and that’s the first thing you’ve said that truly terrifies me.”
“Rude.”
“But accurate,” he said, nudging my shoulder. “Seriously, thanks for jumping in.”
“Of course. Anything for you.”
James flushed, his gaze softening even as he placed the charred muffins on the cooling rack like they hadn’t personally offended him.
“I missed you,” he murmured. “Even though it’s only been a few hours.”
“Same,” I said quietly. “You’re not the only one who needs mid-day emotional validation.”
Cyrus appeared, holding the destroyed muffins. “So who’s gonna tell Beau the bears have officially lost the baking war?”
James turned to him. “That’s slander. Rafael is not representative of all bears.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m a menace on my own.”
Rowan leaned across the counter, grinning. “But seriously… is this, like, official now? Do we have to stop making fun of you?”
“Don’t you dare,” James said, smiling. “I’d miss the emotional terrorism.”
“We’re still doing the couples trivia night next week,” Cyrus added, pointing between us. “You two better show up or I’ll tell the florist you’re cheating on her with the baker.”
“Are you drunk?” Rowan asked.
“Just high on croissant fumes,” Cyrus said dreamily.
James shook his head and handed me a chocolate chip scone from the new batch. “Sit. Eat. No more ovens.”
I obeyed. I had no pride left. He leaned over the counter and kissed my cheek.
The kiss was quick, warm, and casual. And yeah, maybe the wolves whistled and hooted. Maybe Rowan made kissy faces again.
But I didn’t care.
I was sitting in the middle of controlled chaos, eating warm pastries and watching James laugh- lighter than I’d seen him in weeks.
* * *
JAMES
The last customer left with a sleepy smile and two sticky buns in hand. I flipped the “Open” sign to “Closed” and locked the door behind her, my whole body sighing in relief.
It was the next day, but it felt like the longest week had just ended.
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was warm. Comforting. The kind of quiet that only came after a long day well spent.
