Page 78 of Fated Despite the Moon

Epilogue

Six Months Later

Makayla bent behind the glass case and pulled a blueberry pie out and set it in a pink box. She tied it with a string and brought it up to the register.

"That will be ten fifty-three."

Mrs. Johnson pulled a ten from her wallet and then shook it looking for change.

"Don't worry about it," said Makayla.

Mrs. Johnson smiled. "How about I bring you a carton of blackberries the next time I come in?"

Makayla nodded. "I'll never turn down that deal."

She handed Mrs. Johnson the pie and put the money in the register. She smiled at the next customer as the bell over the door rang and a dozen sweaty students walked in.

Dakota's BJJ class must have just ended next door. The last student walked to the counter, and Caleb ducked through the door. After almost six months together, her skin still warmed every time she saw him.

"Molly can you help the customers?" she called over her shoulder.

A young girl walked out of the back and smiled at the customers as Caleb rounded the counter and kissed her.

"Hi." He put his hands in her back pockets.

"Have you eaten lunch?"

"Nope. I came to see if you and Maddie wanted to eat with me."

"How about you come in my office? I want you to try something."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "That sounds interesting."

She took his hand and led him back to her office. She closed the door as he walked over to the playpen in the corner and looked at their daughter.

"Don't wake her," she whispered.

He stroked the baby’s bald head then covered her with her blanket before sitting on the edge of Makayla's desk. She walked around the desk and pulled a pot pie out of a box, then cut a piece and put it on a plate for him.

He shoved a forkful in his mouth. Caleb’s eyes closed, and he moaned as he chewed and then swallowed.

"Is that a good moan?"

He took a second bite and then a third.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"That is amazing. You really are good at this baking thing."

She shrugged. "I have to be good at something."

His eyebrows furrowed, and he set down the plate, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging it before he pulled her to him.

"You’re good at a lot of things."

"A few. Others I'm still working on. Like laundry and ironing." She motioned to his wrinkled flannel.

He pulled her close and wrapped her in his bulky arms. "I'd take a woman who can bake over a woman who could iron any day."

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