Page 57 of Fairy Cakes in Winter

Theo pulled the box from my hands, picked up the fairy wings that had fallen to the ground, then moved into my space. “What are you saying, Scott?”

“I’m saying…I think I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. I feel it. In here.” I smacked my chest and sucked in a breath. “You walk into a room, and everything stops. You’re music and laughter and light and peace. And I don’t understand that last one ’cause you talk all the damn time, but it’s true. I’m a better man when I’m with you and I…don’t want to live without you. I love you, Theo. I just…I love you.”

He flew into my arms, wrapping himself around me. “I love you, too.”

I hugged him as tightly as I dared, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the flood of emotions I felt bubbling to the surface.

This was real. He was mine. The rest was static.

Sure, he had a job and a home on the other side of the world, but those were minor details we’d figure out along the way. Time was on our side now. I’d do whatever I could to make this work. I’d move or make room for him in my flat in London. I’d buy a place in Bath if he wanted to stay here. I’d make him fairy cakes in winter…or any season he wanted them.

All I needed was Theo.

EPILOGUE

“People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.”—Anton Chekhov

Eighteen MonthsLater

Theo

The air was absolutely still. Not a hint of a breeze. I’d honestly had no idea England could be so…hot.

Everyone assured me this was nothing compared to the heat wave two years ago when the temperature had climbed to the high thirties—Celsius, that was. Since I was now an official resident of the United Kingdom, I decided I’d better learn their system. It got a little cumbersome to constantly have to google the conversion.

I folded a piece of paper in half and fanned myself, resisting the urge to stick my head in the fridge. Again. But I’d promised to stay out of the kitchen so Scott could finish up for the day, and I was needed in the shop. I told Joanne I’d cover for her while she shopped for her daughter’s wedding dress.

I was happy to do it, but the bakery’s fan situation was abysmal and my husband didn’t want to spring for AC in the middle of summer. Totally understandable, but geez, I was in danger of melting like a crayon in the Sahara in August.

Thankfully, the heat didn’t seem to affect business at all. The bakery was busier than ever. We were closed now, but it had been nonstop since I’d arrived at noon. And fairy cakes were practically flying off the shelves. No kidding. Our customers loved Scott’s key lime pie summertime tarts too. But much to his chagrin, fairy cakes were by far our best seller.

I peeked at our updated logo in the window and smiled before opening a fresh tab on my laptop. I calculated today’s regional and international online orders, furrowing my brow when I noticed a huge new order from New York City.

Oh, my—wow.

I abandoned my post and hurried to the kitchen to find Scott elbow-deep in sudsy water.

“Hey, baby.” He turned to greet me with that sexy lopsided pirate’s grin that always made my heart skip a beat. “I’m almost—what’s wrong?”

“I think it’s happening. Look.” I set my computer on the island and waved him over.

Scott grabbed a dish towel and wandered to my side. The gold band on his left ring finger glinted in the sunlight from the skylight above. I studied it for a moment, unsurprised when my chest swelled with pride. Sometimes, I couldn’t believe this amazing, wonderful, hunk of a man was mine. As in legally and officially mine.

More about that later. This was important too.

I lifted my chin, leaning into him when he kissed me. It was meant to be a quick peck, but tongues were involved and I couldn’t seem to pull away…until oxygen became a necessity. I licked my lips, panting slightly as I stared up at my husband, bewitched and bewildered. I pointed at the computer and grunted.

Scott took the hint, bumping my hip playfully as he set his readers on his nose, then bent to read the order log. “What is this?”

“We’re going to be inVogue,” I squeaked.

“Huh?”

“Or some other major publication. Remember the annoying man with the round glasses and the notebook who came by to sample your cakes?”

“The food blogger?”

“Yes! He must have been serious about doing a feature piece about you. They’ve ordered dozens of fairy cakes. There must be an email too.” I zipped over to my emails and gasped. “They want you onThe Today Show.”