Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ8TBD56G39MPBT4RJ6XP1K

The bell jangled as he stepped into the sun-dappled bakery, the scent of cinnamon and sugar clinging to the air like a second skin. She was behind the counter, dusted with flour, a wooden spoon propped against her ear. “Mondays are my favorite day,” he said, leaning a hip against the counter. “Fresh scones, no crowds, and you’re too tired to argue about the jam.” She smirked, sliding a tray of golden scones into the oven. “You’re here for the raspberry, aren’t you? Not the apple-clove or the peach. Just the red stuff.” He tilted his head. “A man can’t admire his favorite color?” The spoon clinked against the counter as she set it down. “Red’s a bold choice. Blood, roses, that jar of jam I found missing from the back shelf Saturday.” He chuckled, but the sound caught in his throat. “Missing jelly? Theft’s a grim way for this town to start spring.” “I’d say it’s pooh-pooh the rabbit. But no one’s handing out laughter.” She paused, tapping the spoon twice against the counter. “I saw you at the hardware store Thursday. Buying a new lock for your cottage.” The scones popped in the oven. He didn’t move. “Funny, I didn’t realize you baked,” she said quietly. “Or that you had a sweet tooth for things that aren’t yours.”