Page 62 of ICED
The kiss is soft. No heat behind it, not yet. Just warm lips, a brush of breath, a shared stillness in the middle of a flour-dusted chaos. It’s over in a second, but my heart thunders like I just scored in overtime.
Maya pulls back, blinking, and gives me a look that’s all mock-stern. “You kissed me in front of my child.”
“Barely.” I grin. “Besides, she’s focused on her unicorn with wings.”
“Pegacorn,” Lila calls helpfully without looking up.
I grin wider. “Exactly.”
Maya huffs, but she doesn’t let go of my hand. “You’re trouble.”
“Yeah,” I say, brushing her knuckles with my thumb, “but the good kind, right?”
She leans in again, bolder this time, and kisses me quick and sweet. “Don’t push it, Owen.”
I pretend to zip my lips. “Silent as a scone.”
She snorts. “That’s not a saying.”
“It is now.”
I reach into the container and hand her one of the muffins I saved specially. “Eat. Before you faint dramatically into the buttercream.”
She rolls her eyes, but she takes it. Takes a bite, then groans quietly. “You’re actually evil.”
I wink. “Diabolically soft-hearted.”
Lila’s humming to herself as she sticks star-shaped stickers all over an empty muffin box like it’s a prized art project.
I glance over, and my chest does that quiet thud it always does when I see them like this, like they’re already mine, even if I haven’t earned the right to say so yet.
She sees me watching and quirks a brow. “You always clean like you’re auditioning for the tidy Olympics?”
“Only when I’m trying to impress the head judge,” I say, flicking the tea towel over my shoulder.
She smirks but looks away too fast, cheeks pink. And for a moment, I let myself look, at the soft slope of her shoulders, the tired edge to her smile, the way her hair keeps falling in her eyes and she doesn’t bother fixing it.
She catches me staring and rolls her eyes. “You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Looking at me like I’m a cake you want to eat but are too polite to touch.”
I grin, walking over slowly. “Maybe I’m trying to figure out your recipe.”
“Good luck. I’m full of unpredictable ingredients.”
“That’s my favourite kind,” I murmur, stepping between her knees.
She doesn’t move away. If anything, she leans in, just a breath closer. I swear I can feel her heartbeat matching mine.
But before I can say something completely ridiculous, Lila pipes up, “Bear?”
I turn. “Yeah, Jellybean?”
She abandons her sticker project, walking over with her hands clasped behind her back like she’s about to deliver a formal presentation.
“When are we going skating again?” she asks, blinking up at me.
