The Bakery Romance
"Zahra's desi bakery is famous for its gulab jamun. When food inspector Khalid keeps failing her inspections on technicalities, she suspects ulterior motives—and finds unexpected sweetness."
The Bakery Romance
"The flour storage is half an inch below regulation height."
Zahra stared at the inspector. "Half an inch?"
"Regulations are regulations." Khalid marked his clipboard. "You have forty-eight hours to comply."
"This is the third time this month you've failed me on ridiculous technicalities."
"Then stop having technicalities." He almost smiled. "I'll be back Thursday."
By Thursday, Zahra was ready for battle.
"Temperature logs updated. Storage elevated. Exit signs polished." She crossed her arms. "What excuse this time?"
Khalid examined everything with infuriating thoroughness. "Perfect."
"Then why do you look disappointed?"
"Because now I have no reason to come back." He set down his clipboard. "Unless you want me to."
He returned anyway—as a customer.
"The gulab jamun is exceptional," he said, finishing his third serving.
"You failed me on fridge temperature once."
"I was doing my job. Now I'm appreciating yours." His eyes held hers. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes." He stood. "Have dinner with me. Let me explain."
Dinner revealed the truth.
"I noticed you the first inspection," Khalid admitted. "But I couldn't be inappropriate on the job."
"So you failed me repeatedly?"
"I kept finding reasons to return. Not my finest moment."
"That's ridiculous." But she was smiling. "And oddly flattering."
They ended up at her bakery after hours—surrounded by sweets and wanting.
"This is weird," Zahra said as he kissed her. "Dating the man who almost shut me down."
"Dating the woman whose gulab jamun ruined me for all other food." He pressed her against the counter. "Seems fair."
He made love to her amid the sweet scents—thorough, devoted, ensuring every standard was exceeded.
"Meri jaan," Khalid breathed. "You're my favorite inspection."
"Still terrible."
"Still true."
"The department will ask questions," Zahra said afterward.
"I already transferred to another district." He pulled her close. "Now I'm just a customer. A very dedicated one."
"Forever?"
"Forever." He kissed her forehead. "And I expect free gulab jamun for life."
The wedding cake was her own creation—three tiers of Pakistani sweets.
He never inspected another business.
Sweetest arrangement either of them ever made.