PENNY
Leaning against the counter, I watched Liam tighten the last screw on the bakery’s new doorbell chime.
“Try it now,” he said, stepping back and wiping his hands on a napkin.
Jess reached for the door handle, pushed it open slightly, and let it swing back.
A pleasant jingle echoed through the bakery, she gasped dramatically. “We’re officially fancy!”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s a doorbell, Jess, not a Michelin star.”
Liam smirked. “At least now you’ll know when someone sneaks in.”
I nodded, appreciating his help more than I wanted to admit. He had done a lot—fixing up shelves, adjusting furniture, even helping unpack the last few boxes I had been dreading.
At some point, we had ordered takeout, and now the scent of soy sauce and fried rice lingered in the air. Jess lean
