Page 49 of Working For Her Sweet Treats

When she runs out of requests, I return to Sweet Treats and repair the pipe. The damage is straightforward once I open the wall enough to reach sound plumbing. I replace the corroded section, install a new coupling, and test the line repeatedly before closing anything.

I do not touch the flickering lights.

I do not tighten the front-door hinge.

I do not straighten the molding beside the display case, even though it continues to bother me.

By the time I return to The Foundry, the kitchen smells like maple, cinnamon, apples, and warm bread.

Ava stands over a tray of cinnamon rolls with a piping bag in one hand. A streak of flour marks her cheek, and her hair has escaped almost completely from its bun.

She looks beautiful. She also looks tired enough to fall asleep standing up.

“The pipe is repaired,” I tell her. “I ran the water for ten minutes and checked every connection.”

“Only the pipe?”

“Only the pipe.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She sets down the piping bag and looks at the trays around her. “We’re almost done.”

“You did it, Ava.”

“We did it.”

The correction catches me off guard. Ava comes closer, stopping just beyond reach. “I’m still angry about the inspection.”

“I know.”

“You were wrong.”

“I know that, too.”

“I don’t need you to explain why you did it.”

“That’s probably good. I’m still learning when to stop talking.”

Her mouth curves slightly.

“I asked for help today,” she says. “And you helped without taking over.”

“I tried.”

“You succeeded.”

I want to touch her, but I do not assume the moment gives me that right. Ava notices. She closes the final bit of distance between us and slips her hand into mine. The gesture is quiet, almost hidden from everyone moving around the kitchen. It means more than the kiss in the cooler.

She squeezes my fingers before releasing them. Then she lifts a clean pink apron from the counter and holds it toward me.

“You’re working for me tonight.”

I take it.

“Does this position include benefits?”