Sugar and Stems

Chapter 4

Theo

The smell of warm bread filled the air, the way it always did every morning. I wiped my hands on my apron and checked the rising dough lined up along the counter. The ovens hummed quietly, the early light spilling through the windows of Maple & Crumb Bakery — my second home. Or maybe my first, depending on who you asked.

Business was steady, enough to keep the place running, though some mornings felt slower than others. Today wasn’t slow, not exactly, but my mind definitely was.

“Whoa,” came a teasing voice from behind me. “Is that a smile I see before nine a.m.? Should I be worried?”

I turned to find Liam, the college kid who helped me part-time, leaning against the counter with a grin.

“Just a good day,” I said simply, brushing off the comment.

“Uh-huh.” He raised an eyebrow. “Good day or good company? If you’re secretly in love with a customer, blink twice.”

I shot him a look that made him laugh, but I didn’t bother answering. Because, honestly, I didn’t have one.

He left to arrange pastries in the display case, and I went back to my dough, pretending I wasn’t thinking about her.

It had been a week since she’d stood in this bakery, a week since she’d filled the silence with her rambling. She talked like every sentence had its own personality, like silence was something she refused to let win.

I didn’t mind it.

I’d replayed her words more than once. Her laugh too. It lingered, light and easy, like something you didn’t realize you missed until it was gone.

That’s probably why I found myself here now, heading down the cobblestone street with no real plan except one that sounded believable.

I pushed open the glass door to her shop, the little bell chiming overhead. The air smelled faintly of roses and lavender — and something soft, maybe her perfume.

She looked up from behind the counter, surprise flickering across her face before she smiled. “Theo! You’re here”

“Let me guess,” she said, tilting her head, “you’re here for—wait, don’t tell me—flowers?”

“Sharp as ever,” I said.

She gasped dramatically. “Oh no, that was sarcasm, wasn’t it? I walked right into that.”

I shook my head, laughing under my breath. She grinned, clearly pleased with herself for earning a reaction.

I shrugged, trying not to look like I’d thought this through.“I need some flowers for decoration at the bakery.”

A harmless excuse. One that made perfect sense.

But I didn’t.

I just wanted to see her again. Not that she needed to know that.

Her face brightened even more. “Oh! I love that. Flowers and baked goods are natural soulmates. I mean, not literally — don’t eat them, obviously — but they belong together.”

I chuckled. “You sound very sure of that.”

“I’m an expert,” she said with mock pride “So, what are we decorating? Countertops? Tables?”

“The front window,” I said, pretending to study the buckets of blooms instead of watching the way her hair curled near her cheek.

“Got it.” She tapped her chin, scanning the flowers. “Something warm and inviting. Maybe gerberas? Or tulips? No, wait—maybe a mix. I can already picture it!”

She started arranging them, her enthusiasm spilling over every word. I leaned a little on the counter, listening to her talk about color harmony and ‘emotional palettes’ of flowers.

She looked up suddenly, laughing at herself. “Sorry. I know I do this thing where I talk like I’m on a reality TV show about floristry.”

“I don’t mind,” I said.

“Careful, you’ll regret saying that. I can talk for hours.”

“I mean it Azalea”

Her smile pulled at something in my chest.

When she finished, she held them up proudly. “There. Your bakery’s going to look like sunshine and good decisions.”

“Sunshine and good decisions,” I repeated. “That’s a strong marketing line.”

“You can have it,” she said, smiling. “I’ll only charge you… hmm, one pastry.”

“That’s a dangerous bargain.”

“I live dangerously,” she said.

She handed me the flowers, and for a moment, our fingers brushed. It wasn’t anything, not really — but it was enough to make my pulse skip.

Before I could stop myself, I said quietly, “Hey… would you want to hang out tomorrow? For dinner or something? If you’re free.”

She blinked, surprised, then tilted her head. “You mean, like, a hangout-hangout?”

I almost laughed. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly.

She blinks, and then that teasing grin returns. “You’re asking me out, Theo?”

“Just dinner,” I say quickly, though the words sound weaker than I mean them to. I cleared my throat. “If you’re busy, that’s fine. I just thought—”

She interrupted, smiling softly. “I’d like that.”

“Can I come pick you up from your shop around seven? If that works for you.” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck.

I pay for the flowers and she gives a small wave as I step back toward the door. “Seven it is, baker boy.”

As I stepped back out onto the cobblestone street, flowers in hand, I realized I was still smiling.

And this time, I didn’t bother to hide it.