Page 89 of Knotting on Heaven's Door

I walked over, crouched, picked up the tray, and handed it to him.

“That’s how you learn,” I said gently. “But next time, breathe before you move. Reset. Start again. We’ve all dropped something in our first kitchen. Hell, I set an oven on fire once. Just ask Mia.”

“True story,” Mia called from across the tent, not missing a beat as she plated herbs with surgeon precision.

The kid nodded furiously, grabbing a new tray.

Sebastian watched the whole thing, quiet. And in that moment, I could feel it through the bond—the quiet respect. The affection. The awe.

We were fire. Controlled chaos.

Dessert was next.

Hazelnut praline. Smoked. Salted milk ice cream. Delicate chocolate cylinders that should have been piped and plated in peace—except the damn tent was practically a furnace.

Chocolate and heat? A sadistic combo.

“Get the plates out fast!” I shouted. “If this ganache slides off one more time, I will personally scream into the mountains!”

Someone behind me dropped a spoon. Another cursed. Sebastian was plating with laser focus, his jaw tight, his forehead slicked with sweat.

The ice cream had maybe a two-minute lifespan.

“Move, move, move!” Mia yelled. “Final push!”

We ran on instinct. On fumes. On pride.

And then—the last plate left the tent.

A beat of silence.

Thencheering.

Someone whooped. Another clapped. I let out a half-laugh, half-sob as I pulled my apron off. The whole team surged together in the middle of the tent like a tidal wave and collapsed into a group hug, sweaty, breathless, victorious.

“Congratulations, all,” Mia said, her voice hoarse but proud. “We just survived Heaven’s goddsamn Door.”

Sebastian turned to her, grinning. “Do I finally have permission to kiss your boss, or are you going to tackle me again?”

Mia raised both brows. “Go ahead. I’m too tired to stop younow.”

Someone in the group let out a dramaticswooooon, and the rest laughed as Sebastian stepped toward me.

I was too tired to be embarrassed.

Or maybe just... too happy.

He cupped my cheek and kissed me, slow and firm and full of everything we’d poured into the day.

When we broke apart, the noise around us melted. His blue eyes sparkled under the fairy lights, and even with sweat and chocolate stains on his shirt, he looked like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“I’m proud of you,” he said softly. “Ofus. We did it. We fucking did it.”

I smiled, heart so full it almost hurt. “We did.”

“And if those high-class pricks didn’t like it…” He shrugged, wrapping an arm around my waist. “That’s their damn problem.”

I laughed into his chest, letting myself finally breathe.

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