My fingers stretched out and reached across the empty space in my bed. Without opening my eyes, I kicked my leg out slightly to check if the area Daan was sleeping in only a few hours ago was truly as deserted as it felt. Nothing.

Sitting up, my bedsheet tangled around my middle, I peered round the open door in my room. I couldn't hear anyone in the kitchen or the bathroom.

Perhaps our conversation last night was too much. I could have answered with a simple explanation about wanting a change in career paths, and left out my pregnancy. But did I want to continue whatever I had going with Daan by having a secret between us? He would have found out, eventually.

I rubbed the knuckle of my index fingers into my eyes and straightened my shoulders back. My neck cracked as I rolled it from side to side. The ache in my muscles eased with each movement but the dull throb in my chest wouldn't lessen even after I massaged it.

Don't jump to conclusions. He had to return to London today. He had a meeting. That's what it is. He didn't want to wake me up when he left.

The t-shirt I stole—borrowed—years ago was also missing from my bedroom floor.

I picked up my phone, ready to ring him and ask where he was instead of stewing over it.

That can't be right. I stared at the digital clock on my lock screen and my heart sank. Shit. Shit. Shit.

My alarm never went off and I was two hours late for work.

I jumped out of bed, catching my foot in my bedsheet and knocked my knee on the edge of the wooden bedframe. Ouch! My phone still in hand, I dialled Daan's number only for it to go straight to voicemail.

"Listen, Daan... last night was... just thank you for listening. I guess you're already on your way to London. I'll catch you around. Bye." I released a heavy sigh and threw my phone back onto the bed. My ribs tightened. I wanted to wake up next to him. I didn't want to miss him so soon.

My hair secured into a bun, I rushed in the shower, slipped into one of my shift dresses—covering the cap sleeves with my favourite black cardigan—and ran out the front door with a semi-stale croissant between my teeth. I was already so late.

Madeleine is going to have my head if she didn't make it into work on time to open. The last few mornings, she'd arrived later and later. Her coughing hadn't improved and the dark circles under her eyes were more noticeable as time went on. Maybe I should talk to Daan about it.

With that thought in mind, and my stomach churning with nerves and maybe a hint of out-of-date pastry, I pushed the door of Wickedly Sweet open and froze.

Madeleine and Daan were both behind the bakery counter, in fits of laughter, and she'd never looked better. I'd been worrying for nothing.

My heart swelled and almost burst when Daan walked over with a massive grin on his face, wearing the Pink Floyd t-shirt. I liked this dressed down, laid-backed version of him.

"Good morning, Noa. I thought you weren't feeling well?" Madeleine asked while leaning into the display cabinet.

I couldn't tell what she was actually doing because my gaze never left Daan. He scratched the back of his head and moved closer. My heart rate picked up and my cheeks heated when he gave my outfit a little nod of approval.

"Morning. I'm feeling much better, thank you. Daan? Can I speak to you for a minute?"

We moved towards the bistro table and I thumbed through the small pile of feedback cards left on the side. "These were supposed to go into the office."

Daan kissed my temple while I wasn't paying attention. "Did you sleep well?"

I glanced behind him and Madeleine gave me a beaming smile before disappearing into the prep room. "Like a baby. Why didn't you wake me?"

"You didn't even stir when your alarm went off. After our busy night—" he winked and pulled on my open cardigan until my chest was flush with his—, "and our chat, I thought you might be exhausted. You looked so peaceful and cute." His arms came round my waist and he kissed the edge of my eyebrow. "Perks of knowing the boss. She can't get mad at me."

"What about your meeting? I don't want you to miss it." Especially if it was with work about his promotion or with the bank about the bakery. His grandmother and I actually had planned to spend our afternoon going over some of my ideas to bring more business to the bakery.

Ideally, Daan should be involved in our decisions moving forward but part of me worried anything I mentioned around him would still be met with some resistance. After all, he still wanted the bakery sold when our trial period was over. I had no doubt about that and us sleeping together wouldn't change our business arrangement.

"All sorted. I moved it to the end of the day. I can help out here and make it back in time. Don't worry."

"Thank you." I nuzzled into his neck and breathed in. He smelled like my coconut body wash and his skin was so warm against my face. "Did you shower before leaving mine?"

"Yeah, that okay?"

"I like it. You smell like me."

Daan held on to me for a few minutes before taking a step back and removed a tea towel from his back pocket. "Right, you might as well grab an apron now you're here. We're low on eclairs and I don't think Gran trusts me with them."

We both laughed.

"Neither do I." Heading for the backroom, I heard the swat of fabric before I felt it on my backside; not hard enough to sting, but enough to make me jolt forward and place my hands over my bum to cover it. I glanced over my shoulder, armed with my best death stare.

He chuckled and held the tea towel up in surrender. "I couldn't help myself. You're so cheeky."

***

I chewed on the end of my pen, staring at the blank page in my notebook. "How about a loyalty card?"

"We tried that before. It's only the regulars who use it, so in the end we lose money by giving them something free each week." Madeleine sat in her favourite spot with a cup of tea in hand. She liked her grey hair cut close to the nape but recently, she'd let it grow over her ears in unruly curls. Paired with the hint of colour her cheeks had regained, she seemed younger. And healthier than the past few weeks. Even if her black dress swamped her usually plump frame.

"That was before. I started an Instagram page for the shop and followers are picking up. If we promote some kind of loyalty scheme on there, we'll attract new customers. People love getting something free. And it's never free if you work it into your prices. There's no reason to lose money over it."

"What's this Instagram thing you're on about?"

"Oh, look, it's this." I pulled my phone out of my apron pocket and opened up to our new business page. "I spent the weekend before the gala setting it up."

Madeleine held the phone away from her face and squinted. "Oh, I can't see a thing on these screens without my wretched glasses. Danny, be a love, and fetch them for me. They're on my desk."

Daan pushed off the counter and gave my side a quick squeeze as he brushed past me. True to his word, he stayed all morning to help but now it was nearing 2.00pm and he'd yet to show any signs of leaving for his meeting. He didn't seem worried about it, while I couldn't stop glancing at the wall clock behind me.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you about it with going away to Manchester and—"

"People eat with their eyes, Gran. Look at your window display here." Daan placed her glasses on her nose and took my phone out of her hands to swipe through each square photo. "And if you read some of the comments underneath. Well, they love it."

I couldn't help but smile when he turned around and winked. "You saw it?"

"Of course I did. It's brilliant, Noa. Especially your cupcake decorating video."

"Good thing I filmed that one a while ago and not last week when I was burning everything." My smile didn't stop at my face. My entire body lit up. There I was worried Daan would be working against me with how I promoted the bakery but so far, he'd been nothing but supportive.

"My window does look good there, doesn't it?" Madeleine reclaimed the phone from Daan and scrolled through each post with the tip of her index finger. "Well done, Noa. I'll leave this side of things to you because I wouldn't have a clue what to do on here."

"I'm more than happy with that. And I was thinking of extending some of our choices. The recent feedback from our regulars is promising. They love the small French patisserie additions. The canelés were a hit so I might add more flavours." I scribbled some of those ideas onto my notepad and tapped my pen on my chin. "I could film more videos behind the scenes and maybe get Daan involved. Imagine all the girls you could bring in with that pretty face."

He burst out laughing and walked over to stand next to me at the till. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the counter, and propped his chin on his closed fists. "Why, Miss Baudet, I'm blushing. Tell you what. Come up to London with me this weekend and we'll come up with something."

"I think I can make some time in my schedule for a visit."

"Great." He wiped a mark on the glass top with his finger but that only made it worse so he moved behind me to grab a napkin on the opposite side. On his way back around, he pressed his chest into my shoulder and whispered in my ear. "Because I'd really love to eat you."

Daan followed that comment with a casual glance to his watch while the tips of my ear were on fire. I prayed his grandmother hadn't heard him or I wouldn't be able to make eye contact with her for the rest of the afternoon.

"I have to go before I'm late." He gave his gran a quick peck on the top of the head and strolled into the back room to grab his overnight bag. "I'll call you later tonight about the weekend." Without hesitating, his hand found its way into my hair and his lips were pressed against mine.

Although this was Daan, I froze for a second, conscious I was at work and his grandmother was still very much in the same room. Daan, however, didn't seem to care. He playfully nipped at my bottom lip before leaving without another word.

Madeleine shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "Hope you two know what you're getting yourselves into."

My mouth tingled, my pulse thumped erratically, and my thoughts were a puddle on the bakery floor.

So do I.