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“No, silly. I’m with you. And that means I’m home. I think that’s why you always felt like my foundation, why I could never settle anywhere else. Because I was supposed to be wherever you were. With you.”

“Welcome home, baby,” he said, kissing her nose. “I’m so glad you came.” A hard knot loosened in his chest, emotion flooding through him. Joy. Contentment. Love.

“Me too.”

“So come in and stay a while.”

“Eek. Can’t.”

“Why?”

“It’s cold and I have Poppy in the van. And a cherpumple.”

“The pie cake thing?”

“Yes. I have to deliver it.”

“Give me a minute.”

He joined Sam out at the van a moment later, fully dressed, his hat doing something to keep the sun from making his headache worse. Really, his heart felt so good the hangover didn’t seem that bad.

“Okay, Sam, let’s take that sugary abomination to its rightful owner.” He got into the van and closed the door.

“What about your truck?”

“I’ll come back for it.”

“You seem so relaxed about all this spontaneity. We’re practically being unruly! Disorganized, in fact.”

“The most important thing in the world is in place, Sam. Nothing else seems to matter that much.”

“Not even throw pillows?”

He looked back at Poppy, sitting between the racks of desserts, gazing at him and wagging her tail. “Sam, she can chewup one throw pillow a day for the rest of her life and I’ll give thanks for every damn fluff of cotton I sweep off of my floor, and do you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, smiling that sweet, special smile.

“Because it’ll mean you’re there. And I would rather have you and a little chaos than a clean but empty house.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “Now I know you love me.”

“More than anything, Sam. More than anything.”

Her grin turned wicked. “Enough to let me make a cherpumple for our wedding?”

“No.”

“A true representation of blending lives by blending desserts.”

“Sam, I have my limits.”

“Come on, baby,” she wiggled her brows, her voice getting breathy. “Blend desserts with me, you dirty pastry-mixing boy.”

“When you put it that way,” he said, “it sounds kind of hot.”

“Just wait. I have even better ideas for mixing butter cream frosting and...skin.”

“Well, hell.” He sat up straighter, arousal pulsing through him. “If that’s what I get for letting you experiment, you can have a wedding cherpumpleanda wedding turducken for all I care.”

She smiled, and his heart melted. “Stick with me, baby, and it’ll be a fun ride.”

“It always has been. And I’m sure it always will be.”