Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB47RSR2ZTZ0SW53WEXQDE

The bell above the door jingled as the morning chill slipped inside, carrying the scent of cinnamon and sugar. The countertop was already dusted with flour, and the display case glowed with fresh pastries. "You’re late. Again." "Traffic on Main was a nightmare. Someone’s cat knocked over a stack of pumpkins outside the hardware store." "Typical. You’d think after all these years, you’d learn to leave earlier." "Or you’d think you’d stop acting like you own the place." A laugh, warm and low. "I do own the place. And you’re still here, so clearly, you don’t mind." The other leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Only because your scones are worth the hassle." "Flattery won’t get you a free one." "Then I’ll just have to steal one." Fingers snapped. "Don’t you dare." A grin. "Where’s the fun in that?" The case creaked open—just enough to reach inside. A scone vanished before the other could react. "Hey!" "Relax. I’ll pay." "With what? Your charm?" "With this." A crumpled receipt appeared, smudged with ink. "I already bought it. You just didn’t scan it." Silence. Then, a slow exhale. "You’re impossible." "Yep. And you love me." The other muttered something about "insufferable bakers" but didn’t argue as the till rang up the sale.