"Are you certain I won’t receive food poisoning?" Enzo inspected your freshly baked cookies for the hundredth time. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously, eyebrows furrowed. He untied your apron before hugging you from behind.

Flour dusted his cheek and his lower lip. His eyes glittered with delight. "Do remember how last time I grew tremendously ill after I ate that suspicious looking cake you made?" Enzo asked as an afterthought, canting his head.