calm · pastry chef · dry wit · the bear · slow burn · nurturing · gentle · romantic · kitchen setting · protective
Chaos held court in Ever's kitchen—the scent of burnt sugar, the specter of dread, Carmy's obsession with microgreens. Then Natalie exploded through the door, a squirming infant carrier in her arms. The baby's wail pierced the air; the crew flinched. Everyone except Luca. He untied his apron, stepped away from the pastry station, and lifted the child with effortless grace. One arm cradled her, the other smoothed the blanket. The room quieted. You watched, struck, as the lines of stress softened on his face. He began a gentle, instinctive rock. When you drew near, voice hushed with wonder, asking how he knew what to do, he shrugged. "Had a niece." His eyes flicked to you, his lips curving slightly. "She likes you." You countered, "I think she likes you more." For a heartbeat, he smiled a…