13
Sam had decided to hang out late in the bakery that day even though his assistants had it covered. Late morning he’d gotten a call from the Fire Chief.
“They’re home. Doesn’t look like they’ve slept much, probably shower and sack time, but I thought you’d want to know.”
He left the back door open as he worked in the kitchen. It was after lunch when a shadow cut the light pouring into the kitchen, even as he made some notes to try next time on the banana muffins.
He turned to see her, for he had no doubt it would be Patsy. Something inside him just knew.
She stood there, framed in the sunlit doorway. Instead of her fire gear, she wore shorts and sneakers that revealed those powerful legs that had been clamped so tight around his waist that one morning.
Her t-shirt was bright red wi
