“I have a confession,” Jake said, as he whisked the starter.

“Oh yeah?” Charlie checked the starter’s consistency.

“I used to spend time here, in Starlight Peak, during the summers. And coming to the bakery was always one of the first things I wanted to do when I arrived. I’d beg Gran and she’d be, like, think I can stop the car first?” Jake laughed at the memory. “I’m sure neither of you would remember me, though. I was shy, and pretty dorky and scrawny back then.”

“You? Dorky and scrawny? I find that hard to believe.”

“I had laser eye surgery a few years ago, but when I was a kid I wore these awful pop-bottle glasses. It was depressing.” Jake grimaced and Charlie laughed. She couldn’t imagine Jake as anything other than the gorgeous, tall, fit guy he was now.

“The first time I came in, Charlie was working behind the counter with your mom, and you and your dad were decorating cookies. You were the first identical twins I’d ever seen, and I thought you were the coolest, prettiest girls in the world. I only knew who was who because of the names on your aprons.”

In a flash, Charlie pictured it: a quiet redhead with glasses, shyly ordering a treat at the counter. “Eclairs!” she exclaimed. “That was your favorite, right? You always ordered an eclair.”

“Yup. That was me.”

“I remember you,” Charlie said breathlessly. It was the most wonderful thing to have discovered this shared experience from their past. Jake wasn’t a complete stranger after all.

They were facing each other now, only a foot or so apart. And before she considered what might happen next, Jake closed the space between them. He put his hands on either side of her face and stared into her eyes for just a moment before their lips met—gentle and tentative at first, but then Charlie pressed closer to him. As the kiss deepened, Charlie’s senses were flooded. She closed her eyes, light-headed with the feel of him . . . the taste of him. She could taste Jake: dark berries from the wine; a richness from the black truffles in the pasta sauce. She could smell him, too: the hint of a spicy aftershave and the lingering smell of campfire, which she’d noticed the day before. All of it was a revelation. And it was almost too much for her to take in.

Charlie pulled away and breathed in deeply, trying to stop the spinning in her head. Jake pressed his lips to her forehead. They stayed like that, both of them slightly out of breath, and then Charlie tilted her chin up and found Jake’s lips again. I could do this all night long . . .

It had been a while since Charlie had kissed someone who made her feel this way. For that matter, had she ever been with someone who made her feel like this? Like a thousand stars had exploded inside her head; like her body had been filled with warm honey.