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 with a jagged yellow line like mountain peaks, but also like fire. Block letters spelled out, “Silver King Fire” and the year. It hugged her curves in ways that just begged for him to explore them.
Her golden hair caught the sunlight like a halo of fire.
“I got you something,” she held up a small bag that he recognized.
Sam reached under the counter and pulled out a similar bag, “I know it’s only June, but it just seemed right.”
He actually felt awkward as they exchanged bags; it was a surprisingly intimate moment. They began to open them together on the steel prep table.
He pulled out a string of lights and couldn’t help smiling. It was a totally ridiculous string of tiny baked goods: cakes, éclairs, and cookies.
Sam waited while she finished upwrapping her own set of “Fiery Twinkle Lights.” He snagged the plug and put it into the outlet under the lip of the counter, then he plugged in his string to hers. Together they all flashed on and hers began to flicker like fire.
“They look good together,” her voice was soft, on the verge of that rare laugh he’d so come to enjoy.
“They do,” he agreed. Then he looked up at her, “You look incredible.”
“So do you,” she took a step closer and nodded toward the steel prep table, the reflection doubling the lights. “It looks like between us we have a good start on a Christmas tree.”
“A very good beginning,” Sam moved in a step, could feel the warmth of Patsy Junger’s heat spreading through him as that lopsided smile of hers broke free.
“I bet that between us, we could make an incredible tree by December.” She slid into his arms and wrapped her own arms around his back. She rested her head against his shoulder.
“I’m sure you’re right.”
And she was.
There had never been a gift so perfect as this woman in his arms.