~Jennie's~

“Ah, lass, ye don’t stir soda bread like that—ye threaten it!”

The wooden spoon clatters to the counter and I laugh, holding my flour-covered hands up like a criminal. “I’m sorry! I swear the dough moved first!”

Mrs. Callahan grumbles playfully under her breath. Her thick Irish accent rolls like warm honey. Her cheeks are ruddy and her red scarf is slipping sideways under her apron, but her eyes twinkle with mischief. I love her already.

I never thought I’d be here—learning to cook Irish soda bread and lamb stew just to... surprise a man. But it doesn’t feel like I’m chasing approval this time. It feels... warm and...