My Christmas Valentine

Adoration

♥ Megan ♥

By the time I walked back to the bakery, my fingers were numb from the cold, and my heart felt too big for my chest. I held the box tight against me, careful not to bump it against anything as I pushed the door open with my shoulder. Warm air and the smell of sugar and spice wrapped around me like a blanket. The bell chimed above my head, and Josh looked up from the till.

“Well, well,” he said as his gaze dropped to the box in my arms. “That is either a very small new oven, or someone is hiding something,” I shut the door quickly to keep the cold out and gave him a look that I hoped was stern and not completely transparent.

“It is nothing,” I said, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Nothing never comes in neatly wrapped cardboard and makes you smile like that,” he remarked. Natasha passed behind him with a tray of unbaked mince pies and smiled.

“If that is for Shane, I want to see it before he does,”

“It is a surprise,” I said as I hugged the box closer. “You will all see it after Christmas. Maybe,” the bakery hummed with life. The display was full, customers were talking over the music, and the little Christmas tree in the corner blinked softly. I needed to get this box out of sight before someone decided to open it as a joke. Thankfully, both Josh and Natasha were distracted as I quickly went around the front to the back office. I set the box down on the chair and opened the cupboard where I kept spare uniforms and old files. My heart sped up again as I slid the box inside, tucked between two stacks of folders. I rested my fingers on the cardboard for a moment, picturing the bag inside, picturing Shane lifting it out with that careful way he had when something mattered. He would love it. I wanted to believe that with every part of me. I closed the cupboard, turned the key, and slipped the small key into my pocket. Safe. Hidden. Back in the kitchen, the ovens beeped, reminding me that Christmas did not pause for romantic plans. Natasha had already begun spooning filling into the mince pies. I washed my hands and moved to help, falling into the familiar rhythm of pastry and sugar and spice. The day blurred into a whirl of orders and laughter. By late afternoon, my feet ached, and my shoulders complained, but my chest still held that warm, fizzy feeling. The box in the cupboard sat at the back of my mind like a secret star. The sun slipped lower outside, turning the snowless sky a pale gold. The rush finally eased. For the first time that day, the bakery felt almost quiet. I was piping cream onto the last batch of hot chocolate cupcakes when the bell above the door chimed again.

“Welcome to Sweet Treats,” Josh began in his practised voice. “We have candy cane cu—” he cut himself off. “Oh. It is you,”

“Nice to see you too, Josh,” Shane’s voice drifted through the doorway to the kitchen. I wiped my hands quickly, peeled off my gloves, and stepped into the front. He stood near the counter, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, hair still damp at the ends as if he had showered in a hurry before coming over. His Ironworks hoodie peeked out from under his coat, and his cheeks were pink from the cold. When his gaze found mine, the tiredness in my body faded a little. “Hey,” he said, the word soft and warm.

“Hey, yourself,” I answered, feeling my face heat in a way that had nothing to do with the ovens. “You are off early,”

“Class schedule eased up,” he said. “Richard took the last group. I thought I would come check if you remembered to eat today,” Josh snorted.

“Good luck with that,” he remarked, and I rolled my eyes.

“I had a muffin,” I said. Shane shook his head, amused.

“One muffin does not count as lunch, Meg,”

“It was a large muffin,” I replied, but I knew the argument was weak. He laughed, that low sound I loved so much, and something in my chest loosened. “Sit,” I said, nodding toward the small table by the window. “I will make you a coffee. Then you can lecture me about proper meals while you eat an entire plate of sugar,” he pressed a hand over his heart.

“That sounds fair,”

“Good,” I said as I moved behind the counter and started his usual order. Josh watched us with a smirk that I pretended not to see. The espresso machine hissed, filling the air with the rich scent of coffee. I added a slice of caramel cheesecake to a plate before Shane could protest and set both in front of him at the table.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, even as his eyes lit at the sight of the cake.

“I did,” I said. “Employee perk for dating the owner,” he smiled, that slow, familiar curve that still made my stomach flip.

“Best perk I ever had,” he said. I sat opposite him, tucking my feet around the chair legs. Outside, the fairy lights along the street had begun to glow, scattering soft colour across the glass. Inside, the bakery had that late afternoon hush, the kind that made every sound feel closer.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Busy,” he said around a sip of coffee. “Everyone wants to get in shape before they eat their weight in Christmas lunch. Classes are full. Richard and Adam are already talking about New Year programs,”

“That is good,” I said. “More people to torture,” Shane laughed at that.

“Motivate. I prefer the word motivate,”

“Of course,” I said. “You are very motivating. Especially at six in the morning,” he shot me a look.

“You love those early sessions,”

“I love you,” I said with a smile. Shane’s expression softened.

“I love you too,” he said. He reached across the small table and took my hand. His thumb brushed slowly over my knuckles. The simple touch sent warmth up my arm. For a moment, everything else faded. The lists, the orders, the mess in the kitchen. It was just us, a slice of cake, and the soft glow of lights. “Have you thought about what you want to do for Christmas?” he asked eventually. “With the bakery and all?”

“We will be open until midday on Christmas Eve,” I said. “Christmas Day will be closed. After that, I will see how much energy I have left,”

“We can keep it quiet if you want,” he said. “Just you, me, and Luna. Maybe something simple for lunch,” the picture formed in my mind so easily. Our tree in the corner of our living room, presents tucked underneath. Luna attacking the wrapping paper. Shane in the kitchen, pretending he didn’t hate my insistence on Christmas music.

“That sounds perfect,” I admitted. He hesitated for a second as he gazed down at our joined hands before he looked at me.

“There is something I have been thinking about for New Year,” he said. “A plan. But I am still working out the details,” curiosity pricked at me.

“A plan?” I echoed, and he nodded.

“Yeah…um…a surprise,” he said. I wanted to ask more. What kind of surprise? Something big? Something small? Something that involved reservations and fancy clothes, or something quiet and simple like the nights on the couch when we watched movies and fell asleep halfway through? He didn’t offer more details, and I tried not to push.

“Now I am going to spend the next two weeks trying to guess,” I said. His smile turned a little wicked.

“That is part of the fun,”

♥ ♥ ♥