Beckett’s POV
I stare at Elodie for a moment, my breath catching as I take in her hair, a few tendrils falling from her loose bun, and the smear of flour across her cheek.
'That was really impressive,' I manage to say, nodding awkwardly toward her now-empty tray. 'The recipe save, especially. I don't think I could've pulled that off under pressure like that.'
'Thank you,' she murmurs, her fingers tightening around the tea towel in her hands. 'It was a near thing.'
My gaze drops to Callie, something soft and careful settling over me at the sight of her. 'Well done, Callie. Those cookies looked amazing.'
Callie beams up at me, entirely unaware of anything beyond the compliment itself. 'We used real cherries! And Mummy's great-grandma's recipe!'
'Sounds like a very good recipe,' I say,
