Mark, drawing her closer, whispered, "Fresh out of the oven, made by yours truly."

She paused, savoring another bite. Its delightful taste evident on her face.

Post her shower, Cecilia's long raven hair was slightly damp. Mark, always attentive, fetched a towel and began to pat her hair dry.

Drained from the day, she settled into a comfortable position on his lap.

He murmured, "There's my girl," and leaned down, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that tasted faintly of the milk-laden cookies.