Macarons at Midnight by M.J. O'Shea & Anna Martin

Author:M.J. O'Shea & Anna Martin [Martin, M.J. O'Shea & Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

TRISTAN STARTED making it a habit to stop in at Honeyfly for a coffee and a muffin most days on his way to work. Sure, it meant leaving the house a few minutes earlier than he was used to, and then a few minutes earlier again when he started taking the time to stop and talk to Millie or Rose.

He always paid for the coffee and pastry before ducking into the kitchen at the back of the bakery to say hello to Henry; Henry, who let him poke through the trays of cookies, and wouldn’t let Tristan leave until he’d sampled at least one. Most days, he left with another two or three tucked into a paper bag to eat at lunch or with his habitual afternoon cup of tea.

Taking the stock made Tristan feel a bit awkward, which was why he always paid before going to see Henry. He wasn’t a freeloader, even if Henry was mind-bogglingly rich.

The jingle from the bell over the door was welcoming, and Tristan took a deep breath of the cool, sweet, air-conditioned air as he ducked into the shop. At this time of the morning, most of the patrons were business people or students, and they were all after coffee from the huge machine on the back wall as much as the sweets.

Rose lifted a hand in greeting and finished serving before leaning on the counter to grin at him.

“So, what will it be this morning, then, Mr. Green?”

“Um….” Tristan scanned the display cases, and smiled. “A croissant? Please? And a latte.”

“No problem.” He handed over a crumpled five-dollar bill and waited for her nod before ducking behind the counter. “I’ll get this made up for you.”

“Thanks, Rose,” he said with a smile.

In the kitchen at the back, Henry was humming along with the radio, piping swirls of thick paste into dainty pastry shells.

“Are those Bakewells?” Tristan asked, coming up to stand behind Henry and resting his hand on Henry’s upper back.

“Yup.”

Henry stretched into the touch and kept his hands still as he tilted his head for a kiss. Tristan obliged with enthusiasm and rubbed comforting circles between Henry’s shoulders.

Since the weekend, things had changed subtly between them. They still spoke and texted as often as they had before, it was just that now things seemed a little more solid. Secure. The big “boyfriends” talk hadn’t come up yet, though when it did, Tristan knew what he wanted to ask for.

Henry grinned, his face giddy. “The first four dozen tarts sold out in an hour, Tris. People are going crazy over these things. I’ve got raspberry and blackcurrant ones on the go at the moment, and I think I’m going to start playing with other flavors later in the week.”

“Sounds good to me.”

As Henry continued to pipe the almond paste on top of the jam, Tristan stood behind him and rubbed his shoulders, feeling tight knots under the surface. Probably due to all the hunching over Henry did, he thought.

The tarts looked like

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