The week rushed forward like a freight train. Lena barely had time to breathe between handling the bakery's Valentine's orders and wrangling a surprise visit from a health inspector. Her to-do list was a living, breathing beast, and somewhere near the top of it was: Don't let Walker's presence distract you.
Too late.
Every time she passed the flour bin, she remembered the way his fingers had dusted it off her cheek. Every time she kneaded dough, she thought of his mouth tasting raspberry off hers. The kitchen had become a playground of memories—and now, an arena of restraint.
Walker had returned to his penthouse midweek, claiming he needed to "reset" and "get his head in the game" for upcoming board meetings. She understood. But his absence was noticeable in the silence. In the lack of his coffee cup beside hers. In the echo of her thoughts, asking when he'd come back.
Late Thursday afternoon, as Lena wiped down the counter, Sophie walked in, cheeks pink from the cold. "Please tell me you've got caffeine. I've been staring at spreadsheets all day and I'm convinced the numbers are conspiring against me."
Lena poured two coffees and slid one across. "You and Ethan working late again?"
Sophie nodded, blowing into the cup. "He's intense, but in a good way. He respects me, listens when I speak… even when I disagree. It's weird to say this, but I think I'm starting to really like him."
Lena smiled. "You've liked him for a while."
Sophie shrugged, but her grin said everything. "And you? You've been glowing lately. What's up with Mr. CEO?"
Lena leaned on the counter, tracing a pattern in the condensation on her glass. "He's… still Walker. Still frustrating and brilliant and somehow knows how to take up every corner of my brain even when he's not around."
Sophie raised a brow. "Sounds like trouble."
"Definitely trouble," Lena said with a small laugh. "But the kind I want."
Just then, Lena's phone buzzed. A text from Walker: Dinner tomorrow? Something quiet. Just us.
Her heart fluttered, but she kept her expression even. "He's trying. I'm trying. It's good."
Sophie studied her. "You trust it?"
"I want to. But I keep wondering when the other shoe will drop."
"Don't we all?" Sophie sipped. "Love's a risk. But sometimes it's the leap that makes it worth it."
Lena nodded, thoughtful. She had leaped once before and landed in heartbreak. This time, she hoped the fall would be softer… or at least that someone would be waiting to catch her.
That night, Lena stayed late after closing, organizing invoices and prepping for the morning rush. The bakery was quiet—only the hum of the refrigerator and the soft patter of rain on the window filled the silence. She didn't mind being alone. It gave her space to think, though lately, her thoughts always circled back to Walker.
She reached into a drawer to grab a pen and instead pulled out an old photo—a polaroid from a summer fair ten years ago. She and Walker stood side by side, grinning at the camera with chocolate ice cream on their noses. She'd kept it all these years, tucked away like a relic from a simpler time. Lena stared at their faces, young and unburdened, and wondered what they'd say if they could see themselves now.
A knock startled her from the memory. She turned toward the front door, heart fluttering as Walker's tall frame appeared on the other side, dripping from the rain. She rushed over to let him in.
"You're soaked," she scolded gently as he stepped inside, shrugging off his coat. His hair was damp, and droplets clung to the lashes framing his warm gaze.
"I couldn't sleep," he said, voice low and rough. "And I didn't want to be alone."
Lena's heart clenched. She took his hand, cold and familiar, and guided him toward the kitchen. She didn't need to ask what was wrong—not yet. She just poured him a cup of tea, placed it in front of him, and sat across the table, waiting in silence until he was ready to speak.
He never did. Instead, they talked about nothing—the rain, a new pastry idea she was testing, the way the city looked so different at night. But beneath his smile, she saw shadows. And she couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was creeping into their world, ready to unravel everything they'd built.