Apple Crumb Pie 🥧
🍂 The Kitchen Smelled Like Forever
The house smelled like cinnamon and sin.
Apples caramelizing in the oven. Butter sizzling on the stove. Lo-fi jazz humming low enough to make you sway without thinking about it.
He sat on the couch — my couch — waiting patiently to dive into the apple crumb pie al a’ mode, I made for us. Though the only thing he was managing, was watching me like I was the main course. I swear the man could devour me with his eyes faster than I could peel an apple.
I handed his helping, “Taste this.”
A warm bite of deep-dish apple crumb pie, the cold vanilla ice-cream he brought at my bequest—noting my favorite flavor. Crust flaking perfectly, steam curling in the air between us. He took one bite, closed his eyes, and let out that deep, low hum that made my knees weak.
“You might fatten me up,” he said, licking the ice cream from his thumb.
“I’ll enjoy you either way,” I said, leaning into him. I pressed my lips to his, tasting the sweet cream left on them. “Keep eating.”
And he did. Every bite like worship. Every glance like promise.
The way he looked at me after finishing the last crumb — like the dessert was just foreplay — that was the part that did me in.
There’s something about cozy nights like this, with Him. Baking until the house smells like warmth itself, feeding him until he can’t stand it anymore — that makes love feel like the most decadent recipe:
A little sugar.
A lot of heat.
And someone who knows exactly how to enjoy both.
Shop the post & grab all you need to make this next level pie for your person on the next date night in ✨
