Daisy Amour

She said — snickerdoodle with your coffee, or snickerdoodle with me. The coffee’s still sitting there. 😏🍪❤️
She baked them for you. Waited on the counter for you. Slid off and held them out the moment you walked in — white lace, open shirt, that smile that already knew your answer before you did. 😏🤍 Send this to the person that needs Snickerdoodle’s with coffee or Me 😉🤗🤔❤️

The kitchen smelled like butter and cinnamon and something that had no name but felt like being exactly where you were supposed to be. She’d been on the counter when he arrived — barefoot, lace bra, white shirt barely containing the morning — and slid off the moment she heard the door. She held the plate out slowly, that smile already loaded. “Snickerdoodle,” she said simply. He reached for one. Her eyes didn’t move. “I said take your pick,” she said quietly. He looked at the cookies. Back at her. Put the cookie back. 🖤😏🍪