Page 94 of When We Were Young

I widen my eyes. “Seriously? Of course, I’d love to be first.”

“Okay. If you hate it, be honest, all right?”

I nod, and she continues.

“I’m going to name it Sugar ‘n Spice. Since that side is largely bakery, and this side is where I’ll do the cooking lessons with spices and⁠—”

“It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect,” I tell her. And it is.

Her eyes light up. “Yeah?”

I step closer to her. “Yeah. It’s excellent.”

She smiles, and it’s soft and sweet. Everything in me wants to step forward and tuck the strand of hair that’s fallen from her messy bun behind her ear. I restrain myself from doing it, though.

“Um.” She gestures to the corner where the bar is. “Would you like a drink? A glass of a nice, local wine, perhaps? They all come highly recommended from a finicky wine connoisseur I know.”

I grin. “Hey, you yourself said that my palate was extraordinary.”

“Uh, I’m not sure those were the words I used.” The sweetest laughter escapes her, and it instantly becomes my new favorite sound.

“Semantics,” I tease.

I walk to the bar and open the custom doors, then kneel and choose a bottle for us to share. She gets wine glasses and sets them on the island while I uncork the bottle. We both watch in silence as I fill the glasses, the golden liquid flowing smoothly into them.

When I sit next to her, I tilt my body toward her and raise my glass. She lifts hers as well.

“To many years of success for Sugar ‘n Spice and its brilliant, fierce, and beautiful owner.”

A look of surprise crosses her face for a split second, but then she touches her glass to mine before taking her first sip.

“Mmm, it’s so good... scrumptious,” she whispers.

“I guess that wine guy knew what he was talking about, huh?” I grin at her.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Her smile is relaxed and radiant.

We sip our wine, and she tells me about Simon’s new school and how he’s doing. When our glasses are nearly empty, I pick up the wine bottle, ready to pour another glass for us.

“Would you like to sit for a little while?”

I hope she says yes.

“Oh, um⁠—”

My heart rate kicks up, and I work to keep my expression neutral and not show my disappointment.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want to. But Simon is asleep upstairs, and I don’t want to leave him unattended for too long. If you’re okay with it, we could lock up and take this bottle upstairs to finish it.”

She casts her gaze downward, as if she’s afraid to look me in the eye.

My disappointment transitions to elation. I also try to school my face for this. I don’t want to seem overeager.

“If you’re sure, then I’d like that.”