Chapter Eleven – Daniel
The key slid into the lock with a familiar click, and Daniel pushed open the front door to Brooks Bakery. The scent welcomed him first—yeast and sugar, cinnamon and vanilla—the perfume of his life’s work.
“Here we are,” he said, stepping aside to let Holly enter first.
She stepped over the threshold, and Daniel watched as the tension visibly melted from her shoulders.
Her eyes widened, taking in the amber lights that cast a honeyed glow over the polished counters and Christmas garlands he’d hung with the help of Maisie and Teddy.
The display cases stood empty, waiting for the day’s offerings, but even without pastries, the space radiated warmth.
“Daniel, it’s beautiful,” Holly breathed, turning in a slow circle.
Pride swelled in his chest, stronger than he’d expected. Brooks Bakery was his heart made visible, every corner designed by his hands, every recipe perfected through countless early mornings. Having Holly here, seeing her respond to it so genuinely, did something to him he couldn’t quite name.
His bear rumbled with satisfaction. She likes our den.
The back door swung open as Mina bustled in, her silver-streaked hair already tucked under her trademark red bandana. She spotted Daniel and broke into a wide smile before her eyes landed on Holly with undisguised curiosity.
“Morning, boss!” Mina called. “I didn’t expect to see you so early. I thought you’d still be snowed in.”
“No, as usual, James had the snowplows out early, and most of the roads cleared,” Daniel replied, hanging his coat on the rack by the door. “Mina, this is Holly. She’s a friend staying with us for a few days.”
Holly stepped forward with a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”
Mina’s eyes crinkled warmly as she appraised Holly. “Any friend of Daniel is a friend of ours. Though he rarely brings friends to the bakery this early in the morning.”
Daniel felt heat creep up his neck. “Holly helped me drop the kids off at school. And I said I’d show her where the magic happens.”
“Mmhmm,” Mina hummed, her knowing smile making Daniel wish he’d thought this through a little more.
First Sarah, now Mina seemed to have figured out the truth. That Holly was his mate.
Well, it’s obvious, his bear said.
It is? Daniel asked.
Yeah, you are positively glowing, his bear said.
I am? Daniel rubbed his hand over his face.
Oh, you are, his bear said happily.
The bell above the door jingled again as Carl shuffled in, shaking snow from his boots. The lanky college student worked part-time between classes, and his perpetually sleepy expression suggested he’d rather still be in bed.
“Morning,” Carl mumbled, then perked up slightly at the sight of Holly. “Oh, hey. New person.”
“Carl, this is Holly,” Daniel said. “She’s staying with us for a bit.”
Carl offered a friendly nod. “Cool. Nice to meet you.”
Daniel noticed the tiny shift in Holly’s posture as both staff members looked at her with open curiosity.
She stood a little straighter, her smile more confident than it had been when she’d first arrived at his home in a sodden wedding dress.
Gone were his oversized shirts and sweatpants she’d been swimming in.
The jeans and sweater they’d grabbed on their rushed shopping trip fit her perfectly.
So perfectly.
Stop staring, his bear roared.
“All right, let’s get to work,” Daniel said, clapping his hands together. “Mina, how are we doing with the bakes? Carl, make sure the counters are ready, and we have plenty of cake boxes ready. It’s going to be a busy day today after the snow.”
“I’m just waiting for the last of the bread to bake. Howard left half an hour ago after the last of the cakes came out of the ovens.” Mina nodded. “We’re ready.”
“Great. I’ll go and do an inventory check while you and Carl move everything through to the front of the store.” Daniel glanced at Holly.
“You go ahead. Don’t worry about me,” Holly said from where she stood by the door.
Oh, but he did worry. Worry that she might be gone when he came back from the storeroom. But he knew she wouldn’t just leave like that. It wasn’t who Holly was.
As his staff moved to their stations, Daniel headed for the storeroom, grateful for the familiar routine. His bear remained unusually alert, aware of Holly’s presence in a way that made focusing difficult.
When he returned, Holly was helping Mina and Carl with the morning prep. He took a moment to marvel at how seamlessly she’d integrated herself. She was arranging pastries in the display case with careful attention, taking directions from Mina as if they’d worked together for years.
“Those go in the front,” Mina was saying. “People always grab them first. And the bear claws go on the second shelf.”
Holly nodded, placing each pastry with precise care. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun, with a few strands escaping to frame her face. The sight of her, so at home in his bakery, made Daniel’s chest tighten with longing.
This was what he wanted.
And maybe it’s time to tell her, his bear said.
But before Daniel had time to give it more thought, the first customers trickled in. And then the trickle became a steady stream that barely gave them a moment to breathe, let alone talk.
However, once the morning rush subsided, Daniel made his way to the espresso station. “Break time,” he announced. “Holly, what can I make you?”
“Surprise me,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel.
Daniel considered for a moment, then began gathering ingredients. “One gingerbread latte coming up.”
He worked methodically, warming the mug first, then pulling a perfect shot of espresso. The spiced syrup went in next, followed by steamed milk that he poured with practiced care, creating a small pine tree in the foam. For himself, he made a peppermint mocha, another holiday favorite.
“Here you go,” he said, setting her mug on the staff table in the corner. “Careful, it’s hot.”
Holly joined him, her eyes widening at the design. “You made a tree!” She laughed softly, the sound warming him more than any coffee could. “That’s amazing.”
“Just a little trick I picked up,” Daniel said, pleased by her reaction. “The kids love it when I make shapes.”
They settled at the table, and Daniel was acutely aware of the way their legs accidentally brushed beneath it. Holly cradled her mug in both hands, inhaling the spicy scent before taking a careful sip.
“Oh my goodness,” she murmured, closing her eyes briefly. “That’s incredible.”
Daniel tried not to preen at the compliment, but his bear had no such restraint, rumbling with satisfaction.
“Secret recipe,” he admitted. “I make the syrups from scratch.”
“Is there nothing you can’t do, Daniel Brooks?” Holly asked.
Tell you that you are our mate, his bear answered dryly.
Funny, Daniel replied.
Holly took another appreciative sip, then reached for a paper napkin from the dispenser on the table. Without seeming to think about it, she pulled a pen from her pocket and began to sketch, her strokes quick and confident.
Daniel watched, transfixed, as images emerged on the napkin—a sleeping bear wearing a Santa hat, snowflakes swirling around the Brooks Bakery logo, a loaf of bread with steam rising in heart shapes. Each drawing was simple but expressive, capturing the essence of his bakery with just a few lines.
“These are fantastic,” he said, leaning closer to see the details.
Holly glanced up, surprised to find him watching so intently. “Just doodles.”
“Professional doodles,” Daniel corrected. “You’re really talented, Holly.”
She ducked her head, but not before he caught the pleased smile that curved her lips. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
“Why did you stop?” The question slipped out before he could consider whether it was too personal.
Holly’s fingers stilled on the napkin, and for a moment, Daniel thought she might not answer. When she did, her voice was soft but steady.
“I let someone convince me it wasn’t practical. That I should focus on more sensible pursuits.” She added another snowflake to her drawing. “My mom thought it was cute as a hobby, but not a career. And my ex-fiancé always said art was for people who couldn’t handle real jobs.”
Daniel watched her face as she spoke, catching the flicker of old hurt behind her careful words. Something protective stirred in his chest, his bear bristling at the thought of anyone dismissing her talent so carelessly.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said, more forcefully than he’d intended. “You clearly have a gift.”
Holly looked up, surprise widening her eyes at his vehemence. “Thank you,” she said softly. “That means a lot.”
“Did you study design?” Daniel asked, genuinely curious about this side of her he hadn’t seen before.
“No,” Holly admitted, tracing another snowflake onto the napkin. “Business administration. More practical, according to my mother.”
Daniel nodded, understanding all too well the weight of parental expectations. “We have a lot in common.”
“We do. And maybe I’ll take a leaf out of your book and follow my dreams,” Holly said. “Since I feel as if my life has reached a fork in the road.”
“Do it,” Daniel said. “Better to try than live with regrets.”
“So, where did you get your love of baking from? You’ve mentioned family recipes,” Holly prompted.
Daniel considered the question, memories filtering through his mind.
“My grandmother,” he said finally. “She lived with us when I was growing up. Every Sunday, she’d make these incredible pastries—the house would smell like heaven.
” He smiled at the memory. “When I was about eight, she started letting me help. There was something about creating something with my hands, something people would enjoy together... I was hooked.”
“She sounds wonderful,” Holly said.
“She was,” Daniel agreed. “She’s the one who told me to follow what made me happy, not what made sense to everyone else.”
Holly’s expression softened. “Wise woman.”
“She would have liked you,” Daniel said.
“I’d have liked to have met her,” Holly replied.
“What about you?” he asked. “When did you start drawing?”
“As far back as I can remember,” Holly replied, not looking up from her work. “I used to cover my school notebooks with doodles. Drove my teachers crazy.” A small smile played on her lips. “My dad encouraged it, though. He’d bring home these fancy colored pencils whenever he traveled for work.”
There was something in the way she mentioned her father—a warmth that had been missing when she spoke of her mother. Daniel filed that observation away, another piece of the puzzle that was Holly.
“What happened with your dad?” he asked gently.
Holly’s hand stilled momentarily. “My parents divorced when I was thirteen. Dad moved across the country and remarried. We stayed close for a while, but...” She shrugged, the gesture not quite hiding the hurt beneath. “Life gets complicated.”
Daniel nodded, understanding more than he could say. The loss of a parent—even one who was still alive somewhere—left marks that never quite faded.
“After that, for a while, it was just Mom and me before she remarried…” Holly continued, adding another heart to the steam rising from her drawn loaf. “She had very specific ideas about what success looked like. Art wasn’t on the list.”
“And yet here you are, creating beautiful things anyway,” Daniel observed.
Holly looked up, meeting his eyes with a vulnerability that made his chest tighten. “I guess some things are just part of who you are. No matter how long you ignore them.”
“Then maybe we should learn not to ignore them,” Daniel said.
“Maybe you’re right,” Holly replied.