The sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the small bakery, enticing the townspeople as they walked down Main Street. Inside, Emily slid a tray of pastries onto the counter, her eyes meeting with Oliver's under the dim lighting. "What brings you by so late?" Emily asked, her voice a soft murmur. "Same." Oliver replied, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Can't a fella get any of those fresh bread rolls out without breaking my back?" Emily's smile was genuine. "You'd think so, but I'd rather not break anyone's back. This is work, remember?" Oliver chuckled. "Work. Or whatever we do. You're right. I'm just as much a baker as you are." They chatted for a moment before Oliver pushed away from the counter. "Hey, want some lunch? I got leftover soup." Emily nodded and handed him a steaming bowl. As they sat down to eat, Oliver's eyes twinkled. "Perfect. First, though, I have to make sure Lucy's muffins are ready. She's going to kill me if I forget." Emily laughed and ruffled his hair. "She'll know. She'll find out."