Aubrey
“You sure you don’t mind watching her?” Brandon asks, holding Avery close against his chest. He shifts her slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“I wouldn’t normally ask, but Mom offered to take Trent for his check-up and physical therapy appointment, and this client is a big deal.
We’ve been in discussion for the last week and they want both me and Kade there to sign the agreement. ”
“I don’t mind at all,” I say, smiling at them. I crouch a little so Avery can see me better. “What do you think, sweet girl? Want to be a baker for the day?”
Avery’s eyes light up instantly. She wriggles in Brandon’s arms and looks between us. “Can I make cookies?” she asks, her voice full of excitement.
“Of course,” I reply, stretching my arms toward her. “You can make whatever you want.” I wait patiently, letting her decide when she’s ready.
It only takes a few seconds for her to decide, and then she’s leaning all the way into my arms.
Brandon smiles softly, handing her over to me before passing Lucy her bag. “There’s cash in there for lunch, coloring books, pens, snacks… though I think she’s going to have enough of that here.”
I pop Avery down gently and crouch to her level. “Give Daddy a hug and a kiss bye, sweet girl, and we’ll see him later.”
Avery lunges forward, wrapping her arms around Brandon’s legs and squeezing tight. He peels her off, crouching down to her level too. Brushing stray hairs from her face, he smiles softly at his little girl. “You be my big girl, kiddo. Look after Auntie Strawberry and Auntie Lucy for me, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’ll keep them safe, just like you keep me safe.”
“That’s my girl. Do as Strawberry says, okay? And only talk to the people she says it’s okay to talk to.”
“Uh-huh. Can I go make cookies now?”
“Yeah, kiddo. Make sure you save me some.” Brandon leans forward, kissing the top of Avery’s head and pulling her into his chest for a tight hug.
I know he hates dumping Avery on people last minute—he always feels like he should be there for every little thing, but I love these moments with my niece. Even if Brandon worries, I know Avery’s happy, and that’s all that matters.
“Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, kiddo.” Brandon stands as Avery moves to Lucy’s side and takes her hand. Lucy leads her toward the back kitchen, but Avery quickly turns back around to face us.
“To the moon, Daddy?”
“And back again.” He smiles, then blows her a kiss, which she catches and tucks into her back pocket before turning back and walking away.
“That was too cute,” I say, holding a hand over my chest.
“I can be cute,” Brandon says.
“Of course,” I reply in a mock-serious tone before letting out a chuckle.
“You’re a lifesaver, Strawb. I owe you one,” he says, pulling me into a quick hug. Then he heads out the bakery door, giving me a wave as he goes.
I walk over to the door and lock it, something I always do whenever I’m in the kitchen baking. Since we’re opening a little later today, we can all linger there, whipping up whatever concoctions Avery decides she wants to make.
By the time lunchtime rolls around, the bakery is starting to wind down.
Most of our regulars have been in, chatting with Avery and inevitably being conned into buying one of her “special” cookies.
Every time someone took a bite and told her how delicious it was, her grin grew ten times wider, lighting up the whole room.
I’m just finishing up wiping down the booths when I hear a familiar gravelly voice behind me.
“I see we have a new staff member working here. Nice to meet you—what’s your name?”
I whirl around and see Trent standing at the counter, my mom beside him. His hand outstretched toward Avery.
“Uncle Trent! It’s me, Avery,” she giggles, her little face lighting up.
“No way! When did you get big enough to work here?” he asks in mock astonishment.
“My daddy said I’m big now, and Auntie Strawberry needed my help, so I made cupcakes and cookies,” she explains proudly, holding up a slightly lopsided cupcake.
I can’t help smiling as I watch their exchange. My heart flutters at how natural Trent is with Avery—gentle, patient, but with that fierce protectiveness simmering just beneath the surface. I picture him as a dad.
Then, out of nowhere, a thought crashes into me like a wave I never saw coming.
What would our children look like?
Shit.
My stomach flips. The air feels too thick for a second, like I’ve stepped off a ledge in the dark. Where the hell did that come from? I shake the thought off, fast, just as Mom steps toward me.
“Hi, sweetheart. Thanks for helping out with Avery. I spoke to Brandon—he’s going to come grab her from my house once he’s done,” Mom says, smiling warmly.
“Yeah, no worries. Her bag’s out back, and she made some cookies and cakes to take home with her,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
Mom nods and presses a quick kiss to my cheek before heading back over to Avery.
Lucy takes Mom and Avery through to the back to collect her bags, and when I lift my head, I find Trent watching me.
I take a deep breath, reminding myself that we’re friends now, and walk over to him.
“How was the appointment today?” I ask, glancing down at his leg.
“Yeah, it was good,” he says, shrugging slightly. “A couple more weeks and I should be able to drive.”
“That’s really good,” I say, giving him a small smile.
For a moment, we lapse into silence. Trent shifts his weight, running a hand over the back of his neck, while I fiddle with my fingers. Things are still awkward as we navigate this new dynamic, neither of us quite sure how to bridge the gap between old familiarity and present reality.
Just as I go to break the silence, Avery bursts back through the door, her bag slung over her shoulder and a box—with what I can only assume are the sweet treats she made—clutched in her arms.
“Uncle Trent, did you know this is Strawberry’s bakery?” she asks, eyes wide with excitement.
“You know, I had heard that,” Trent says with a small smile. “It’s a nice bakery, isn’t it?”
I watch them, my heart swelling in my chest. There’s something so easy and natural about the way he talks to her—no trace of condescension, just genuine interest, like what she’s saying actually matters to him.
“Yeah! I love it. When I growed up, I want to have one just like Strawberry’s.”
I smile, my heart catching a little at her words.
“That sounds like a good idea. You’ll have to work really hard like Strawberry does—can you do that?”
“Yes! I worked super hard today, didn’t I, Strawberry?” Avery grins up at me, practically glowing with pride.
“You did,” I say, smiling down at her. “You made so many cakes and cookies. I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”
“Well, sounds to me like you’d be great at having a bakery,” Trent adds, holding his fist out. Avery giggles and fist-bumps him.
“Right, young lady,” Mom calls, tapping Avery on the shoulder. “Let’s drop Trent home, and then we can eat some of those cookies with Pops when we get home.”
Mom gathers an excitable Avery up and guides her toward the door, but my eyes stay locked on Trent. He leans casually against the counter, staring back at me.
I can’t help but notice how good he looks—his fitted t-shirt stretching just enough over the muscles he’s worked so hard for, the athletic shorts clinging to his thick, powerful thighs. I lift my eyes back to his face and find him smirking.
“Friends don’t look at friends like that, pretty girl,” he rasps loud enough for only me to hear, before smiling and heading toward the door, following Mom and Avery.
He’s right. Friends don’t look at friends like that—but fuck, I can’t seem to help myself.