Page 27 of Spicy or Sweet (Wintermore #2)

NOELLE

It’s funny how time flies when the future is full of unknowns. I thought my time working with Shay would drag, that I would be counting down the days until we were finished. But now, we’re a week from the movie wrapping, and our work is dwindling.

Every day, I’ve been coming down to the basement kitchen a little earlier, leaving a little later, usually with Shay’s hand in mine.

The Enchanted Bakery isn’t suffering as much as I thought it would be in my absence; my staff have stepped up.

Maybe I got so used to working with Felix that I didn’t give them enough credit.

Maybe I’m not as needed as I thought I was. And maybe I’m okay with that.

No, I’m definitely okay with that. Even if it’s just for now, so I can savor the last week of working with Shay, I’m grateful not to be needed.

The Enchanted Bakery is closed for a whole week while the crew films whatever they need, and I can put all of my focus on baking for the movie. Baking with Shay.

I like baking with her, and I hate baking upstairs.

There’s something to unpack there, I’m just not quite sure how to go about it.

But I know I need to figure it out, and soon, because this time next week we’ll be hanging up our aprons and going our separate ways—albeit, we’ll still be across the street from each other, but we won’t be baking together.

I don’t know if we’ll be doing anything together.

We never put a deadline on whatever this is, but we also haven’t spoken about the ins and outs of it since we agreed to keep sleeping together.

It’s easy not to talk about it when we’re always around each other, when we don’t have to try and make plans if we want to spend time together.

It’s just an assumption at this point that we’ll be hanging out after work every night.

I don’t remember the last time we didn’t, and I’m struggling to imagine what “after” looks like.

I don’t want to stop seeing her. I don’t want to give this up.

I don’t want to be her friend, and I don’t want this to be “casual.” But I know what my life looks like when I’m not working on the movie, and I know how little time I have for anything outside of work.

Sure, my staff is holding down the fort now, but tourist season is just beginning.

I can’t ask them to add more and more to their plates, and I’ve hired everyone in town with any kind of experience.

I don’t have time to train someone from scratch right as the busy season starts.

Shay would understand if I explained that I have to check out for a few months until after Christmas. I know she would—god knows she’ll be busier, too. But I don’t want to check out. I don’t want my life to go back to how it was two months ago. I’ve gotten used to enjoying my life a little more.

I watch Shay laminating dough of some kind, silently mouthing the words to a French song I don’t recognize.

It’s been just over a month since Sunny swiped yes on her Locked profile.

Just over a month of doing everything I can to memorize the lines on her face, the soft cadence of her voice, the warm, cozy aura she emanates.

I’ve gotten used to being a part of Shay’s life and having her in mine. And I don’t want to give it up.

As if she can feel my gaze, Shay glances up, her lips curving into a smile when she sees I’m watching her.

“You look like you’re thinking pretty hard over there, mon délice.”

“I can’t just admire you working?”

She narrows her eyes, but there’s no heat in them. “Hmm. What are you thinking about?”

“Just thinking about how fast the past month has gone. The movie’s almost finished,” I answer honestly. “I guess I’m wondering what life will look like after, you know?”

Storm clouds roll through Shay’s eyes, and she looks away, turning her attention back to the dough. She might as well have physically slammed a door in my face.

“It’ll be nice to get a parking space at the grocery store again,” she says after what feels like an age. There’s a forced levity to her voice, and I’m not going to push, even if I want to.

“That’s true. At least until the Christmas tourists arrive.” I busy my hands, dumping a bowl of hazelnuts on my chopping board and running my knife through them. A food processor would be more efficient, but not nearly as satisfying.

“Thai food tonight? I’m feeling something spicy,” Shay says, like she’s trying to get us back on even footing.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” I answer. It’s not hard to smile at her, but it’s hard to make it reach my eyes all the way. “Gilmore Girls?”

“Of course.”

We’re already almost finished season five, which is a testament to just how much time we’ve been spending together. Sometimes we watch while we’re working, but mostly we snuggle up in one of our beds with Croissant. Shay is Team Logan, and I suppose everyone needs to have a flaw.

I love curling up with her, but these days, all I can think about is whether we’ll get the chance to finish the series when we’re no longer working together.

It’s entirely possible she’s going to call this whole thing off in a week, and, if so, our last few days will be tainted by uncertainty and anxiety.

How will she spend Christmas? How does she usually spend Christmas?

I can’t imagine Nico is much in the way of company.

How will she spend her paycheck from the movie?

She mentioned wanting to do some work on épices et Sucré weeks ago, but never specifics.

I want to be there—to help, if I can. I want to spend Christmas with her and take her to the reservoir on New Year’s Eve to watch the fireworks.

I want more. I need more.

I need Shay.

But right now, it feels as much of a fantasy as the taste of her did all those weeks ago. And this time, I have no idea how to turn this fantasy into reality.