Their evening together was over, and even as she told herself it was for the best, she felt as deflated as a batch of over-proofed sourdough.

“Anyway, I should probably get going, so . . .” Jake said, hands in his pockets.

Precisely at the same moment Charlie said, “Sorry. I just . . .”

They both stopped speaking, exchanging warm smiles.

It was then Charlie realized this was not what she wanted. She wanted him to stay. He had said a moment before that she was good at asking for what she wanted, and this—spending more time with Jake—was what she wanted. “Hey, listen. I could use a hand. What do you think about learning how to proof dough?”

• • •

Downstairs in the bakery Jake and Charlie donned fresh aprons and set themselves up at the expansive countertop. Jake had flour on his face—on his nose—and Charlie smiled as she handed him a tea towel to wipe it off.

“Did I get it?” he asked, bending slightly so she could better see his nose, which had a slight slant to the right (he told her it had been broken more than once thanks to his rugby-playing days). He had, but she still reached up and gently rubbed nonexistent flour away, just so she could touch him. Jake’s deep green eyes held hers, and the corners of his mouth twitched as he smiled. For a moment they stayed like that—Charlie on her toes, to reach Jake’s nose, and Jake smiling at her—and then Charlie let out the breath she’d been holding and said, “Got it. Flour free.”

“Thanks.” Jake cleared his throat, then looked at the pans of blondies Charlie had made earlier. “I don’t know how you keep from eating this stuff all day long. That would be my downfall.”

“Oh, I forgot dessert,” Charlie said. “I’m happy to slice these up.”

“I’m good,” Jake replied. “Still full from dinner.” He lifted his camera from the nearby table. “Can I take a couple of shots while you’re setting up? The lighting in here is perfect right now, with the twinkle lights.” Charlie opened her mouth to say she didn’t feel up to having her picture taken, but Jake had already snapped a photo.

“Action shot,” he said.

“This is happening whether I want it to or not, right?” Charlie said, sighing dramatically but with a smile.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” Jake said, bringing his camera down.

Charlie, feeling silly for her trepidation, replied, “No, it’s totally fine. This is for the bakery. All good.”

So Jake took a few photos while Charlie pulled out the ingredients for the sourdough. She tried to relax and focus on the prepping ahead of her, though she remained acutely aware of Jake and his camera.

“I know you’re making it seem like I’m doing you a favor helping out tonight, but I’ve always been curious about Woodburn Bread’s famous sourdough. And I’m not the only one. Just today, actually, Sharon was talking about the starter when I picked up Bonnie’s diet biscuits. I mentioned I was taking some photos of the bakery.” Jake put his camera down, rubbed his hands together. “So, go ahead. Teach me.”