Page 55 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls (Kissing At Work #2)
The present brought Celene into the sweetly fragrant patisserie in a town outside Yielding. While Yielding had its bakeries, Zinnia and June’s tastes and budget led them to this shop with its powder blue ceiling, white ladder-back chairs, and the tantalizing aroma of sugar cookies.
A beaming woman in palazzo pants—the head chef-slash-owner—escorted them to a room designed for small parties and tastings, sitting them at two short rectangular tables with two seats each.
Despite the cuteness of the room’s cupcake-patterned walls, the setup kind of reminded Celene of desks so the couples couldn’t cheat off one another.
Otherwise, adorable, as spoken by Zinnia, whose mouth ran the moment they walked in.
She could shatter from joy, and it’d infected Celene as she pulled out a seat for Skye.
“The head chef and her partner here are great,” June said from their table, bouncing her brows at the queer implications. “Zini and I got a sampler box of their cupcakes three months ago and scarfed them down. She wants more refined flavors?—”
“While she likes the rustic, down-home stuff,” Zinnia finished with a bat of her eyelashes at June, dressed in a white sundress for the occasion. One hundred percent in bride mode. “We’re depending on you two to break some ties.”
They didn’t get much time to chat before the owner and her aproned wife brought in cutlery, dishes, and water on a platter.
The taller of the two explained the simple procedure as the other set a single blue plate and two glasses on each table.
They demonstrated filling out little blue cards they printed with the choices for the evening, and how they had a ranking system with checkboxes.
Celene had told Skye about Quinn’s engagement on the ride there. Skye seemed a little uneasy, sparking some doubt. That is, until Skye asked what she hadn’t considered, “Does that give you pressure to, I don’t know, catch up with Quinn?”
Then they got sidetracked by Zinnia calling to fill them in on her and June’s wedding colors, the attire in mind, the catering choices, etc., in hopes to influence their tastebuds.
Celene murmured pleasantly at her forkful of boozy cake—dark chocolate blackberry merlot.
Delicious and rich, though it didn’t seem practical for children or sober adults.
She scratched a ‘No’ for it with the provided pen.
Now that June and Zinnia were invested in their own discussion, she leaned toward Skye, saying, “I suppose in the scheme of important life events, Quinn’s ahead of me now. ”
Skye stretched legs hugged into a pair of Celene’s jeans, more appetizing than any cake. “Are you...jealous?” She placed her fork downward, over her missing half of the cake slice. “It’s okay to say. You can even call Dragonfruit.”
Jealousy wasn’t the word for it. “No need for Dragonfruit. Whatever’s meant for me will be mine.
” Celene knew the look in her eyes bore a little intensely, judging by the way Skye robin switched her head in a small nod, but she needed her sincerity to radiate through.
“I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.
Quinn and I didn’t constructively communicate our futures. ”
“Blueberry lemon with jasmine buttercream,” one of the baker wives announced, shoes gliding soundlessly into the room, swapping plates for a gorgeous slice of light cake dappled with baked blueberries.
Even before tasting it, she knew it’d be Skye’s top choice. Celene finished a tiny portion, certain of this falling into the ‘Yes’ column.
Then, Celene frowned.
Her stomach whorled. Not of the flawless flavor balance, but of the jealousy she’d shrugged off earlier. Only, it was targeted at Zinnia and June, who gestured shiny forks at their untouched slice like architects.
It pushed Celene to meet Skye’s gaze, hand hovering over the checkboxes. “How do you feel about marriage?”
“Marriage, oh, it’s cool,” Skye blathered after a long sip of her water. She’d cleaned up her part of the slice and the rest of Celene’s. “I...I would like that.”
“Like what?”
Skye bumped the part of Celene’s thigh covered by her skirt. “I would like marriage, yeah.”
Way to put the cart before the lesbian horse. Still, if Celene had had more productive, uncomfortable conversations with Quinn, their relationship probably would’ve come to a clean break and not desertion.
“I’m open to marriage.” Celene reached to rearrange a curl swept across Skye’s forehead, the skin underneath abnormally warm. Amused, she teased her lip. “When I get engaged again, it’s going to stick.”
They were mid-thirties adults. Committed to one another, visiting a bakery owned by women in love, trying cakes for a same-sex wedding.
Those implications couldn’t be stronger.
Movement drew Celene’s eyes downward, to Skye’s hand, fumbling around in the front-facing pocket of her shirt. Wordlessly, Celene slipped her hand in, too, slotting their fingers together. And, in there, her fingertips brushed something smooth and hot from Skye’s clutching.
“What rock is this?” Celene whispered. No need to bring their neighbors into this. She needed to know, rolling naturally beveled edges within her fingers.
“Moonstone.”
“What does it do?”
“Thalia says it helps with intuition. Emotional connections...and...” Skye’s mouth snapped shut. In a clear rerouting, she concluded, “Bonds. It strengthens bonds.”
Celene could call their reality word, though anything deeper deserved the two of them only, not Zinnia and June moaning over the spiced apple maple slices replacing their current plates. She hadn’t even noticed the bakers dropping in this time.
Allowing no missed opportunities, Celene caught Skye’s hand before it grabbed a fork. So warm and silky within her fingers, Celene’s voice shallowed to ask, “Skye, would you ever marry someone like me?”
The emphasis was necessary, though the question’s weight thickened the air.
It couldn’t be helped. Skye’s eyes were too dark, too full of wishes, and Celene wanted to fulfill them all.
Skye licked her lips and settled into her seat with a sigh. Then, she smiled not unlike the one in that video of her and Beaker, sufficiently leaving Celene breathless and desperate for an answer. “I can’t think of anything I’d want more, hypothetically .”
Celene’s hand shook as she released Skye.
God, Skye loved her back.
Someone wanted to make a life with Celene. Permanently.
Skye scraped gooey chopped apples on her fork and murmured at the sweetness. She pocketed her hand again, then asked Celene, “And you? Would ,” she stretched out, “you ever marry someone like me?”
Celene stared long enough that Skye had to nudge her to try the cake.
But Celene didn’t want to taste cakes for anybody else. She would, for the sake of Skye’s friends; however, she was long distracted. Honoring the adrenaline surging through her, she used a pointer finger to slide her taster choice card for Skye to view.
Lowly, Celene explained the mark of ‘No’ on the blueberry lemon jasmine cake. “They can’t have this one. Because it’ll be for us someday.”
Skye blinked. Just blinked and blinked. “Oh. Alright.” And she changed her checkmark to the ‘No’ column, too.
They shared a soft laugh before continuing their tasting experience. Ex-fiancée abandonment or not, Celene couldn’t see herself as aimless anymore. Her choices pointed her in an obvious direction.
Celene lifted her fork, intent on voting for the second-best choice.