Chapter 101 Half- Baked
The soft beep-beep-beep of the oven broke the quiet of Sophie's apartment just as she was halfway through sorting the small mountain of clothes on her bed. She startled, the scarf she had been folding slipping from her hands. Then, with a tiny gasp of excitement, she tossed the pile aside and hurried out of the room, her socks whispering against the cool floor as she sprinted for the kitchen.
It had been her first evening back since her trip to Paris, and the whole place still smelled faintly of travel, a little of her perfume, a little of her suitcase, and now, wonderfully, the warm scent of baking bread. She had spent the afternoon trying out a bagel recipe she'd stumbled across online, hoping, almost stubbornly, to recreate the bagel she had fallen in love with on a quiet Paris morning. She could still picture the tiny café with its weathered tables and the way the bagel had been slightly crisp outside but soft and warm in the middle.
Her heart skipped as she reached the oven. She swung the door open and was instantly wrapped in a wave of comforting heat and the nutty, yeasty smell of fresh bread. Carefully, she slid the tray out and set it on the counter. The bagels were a perfect golden brown, their smooth tops glistening faintly under the kitchen light. Sophie bent closer, inhaled, and a delighted smile spread across her face. "Oh... they smell right," she whispered, happiness bubbling up in her chest.
For a long second she just stood there, grinning at the tray like a child admiring a secret treasure. Then she snapped herself back to reality, there was flour everywhere. Her countertops looked like a snowstorm had passed through, and bowls and measuring spoons were scattered in cheerful chaos.
She glanced at the clock and her smile faltered just a little. Hugo will be here soon.
A spark of nervous excitement zipped through her. She still had to finish cleaning, fix the explosion that was her wardrobe, and at least run a brush through her hair before he arrived. She didn't want him to find her looking like a flour-dusted whirlwind.
Sophie quickened her pace, still smiling as she wiped down the counters and stacked bowls in the sink. The air felt light, happy, the kind of evening that made her hum softly under her breath without realizing it. She loved baking, but oh, it was messy work.
She was halfway through clearing the last bit of dough when a knock sounded at the door.
Her heart jumped. She froze, eyes wide. "No... no, no, no," she whispered, half laughing, half panicking. Already?
Another knock followed, a little firmer this time.
Sophie spun in place, scanning the kitchen in despair. The mess wasn't gone, she hadn't even touched her wardrobe, and she still had flour on her shirt. "Oh, this can't be happening," she murmured with a helpless little laugh, brushing at the white streaks on her apron. Baking always left her looking like she'd wrestled a bag of flour, charming in its own way, but not exactly the look she had planned for Hugo.
The knock came again, playful but insistent.
With a breathless laugh at herself, Sophie swiped her hands against her jeans, tried one last time to pat down her hair, and hurried to the door, heart thudding with a mix of panic and excitement that made the evening feel suddenly alive.
When Sophie finally swung the door open, a breathless mix of panic and excitement fluttering in her chest, she found Hugo already standing there with that familiar easy smile.
"Hugo!" she blurted the moment she saw him, half laughing, half scolding. "You're early! You weren't supposed to be here yet I'm not even"
She didn't get to finish.
Before she could step back or fuss about the flour on her clothes, Hugo pulled her straight into his arms. His embrace was sudden and tight, the kind of hug that made her breath catch. He didn't say a word at first, just held her, squeezing as though he could make up for all the hours he'd missed her by sheer force of closeness.
Sophie's protest melted into a surprised laugh, soft and breathless against his shoulder. "Hugo... I can't breathe," she managed between giggles.
At that, he let her go, though not very far. His hands lingered at her waist for a heartbeat longer than necessary before finally releasing her. She immediately reached up to dust at his shirt, embarrassed to see white flour smeared across the rich black fabric.
"Oh no your shirt!" she said, brushing lightly at the faint powder clinging to him.
He glanced down and gave a crooked, easy smile. "Don't bother," he said. "Pretty sure all my clothes have a bit of flour on them now."
She laughed, the sound light and warm in the air between them. "You're impossible."
He tilted his head, studying her with an amused spark in his eyes.
"So why are you early?" she asked, still trying to smooth the white streaks from her apron. "I was supposed to have time to clean up."
His smile widened into something almost mischievous. "Because," he said simply, "I wanted to catch you like this."
"Like this?" she repeated, half incredulous, half amused.
"Messy. Flour everywhere. Fresh from baking." His eyes softened, his voice low but teasing. "You told me you were making bagels, and I knew you'd look like this, and I absolutely love it."
Sophie's mouth fell open for a beat, then she laughed, shaking her head. "That's not fair."
"Fair?" He grinned, leaning just slightly closer. "You look gorgeous when you bake."
Her cheeks warmed at that, the quiet sincerity under his teasing making her heart flutter in a way she hadn't expected.
Still laughing from his hug, Sophie caught Hugo's hand and tugged him gently inside.
"Come on," she said with a playful little grin. "You have to see what I made before I get flour all over the rest of my apartment."
He let her lead him, his fingers curling naturally around hers as she pulled him toward the kitchen. The warm, rich scent of freshly baked bread grew stronger with every step.
When they stepped in, Hugo's eyes immediately landed on the tray sitting proudly on the counter. Golden, glossy bagels, still warm enough to scent the whole room.
"Wow..." he breathed, stopping in his tracks. "Sophie, these look so good."
A bright, proud smile spread across her face. "I tried to recreate a bagel I had in Paris," she said, almost shy but glowing at his reaction. "It's been stuck in my head ever since."
She moved quickly, almost excitedly, to show him. With practiced hands, she cut one bagel in half, the knife gliding through the soft, warm crumb. Steam curled up faintly. She spread a smooth layer of cream cheese, sprinkled just a touch of salt and pepper, then closed it back up and cut the sandwich neatly in half again.
"Here." She handed him one piece, keeping the other for herself. She raised hers slightly, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "Cheers."
Hugo chuckled, lightly tapping his half against hers like it was a toast. "Cheers."
They both took a bite at the same time. The crust gave a gentle crunch, the inside soft and warm, the cream cheese melting slightly against the heat.