Chapter 13
Zoe
Jada was going to be sorely disappointed. The Langfield home was a modest, run-of-the-mill ranch house located in one of the suburbs surrounding the city. However, it was still a decent sized home, especially in comparison to the bungalow my aunt and uncle lived in.
I took a deep breath in an attempt to settle the kaleidoscope of butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach as of late.
They’d been idly fluttering throughout the day when things got slow enough at work for me to remember that I would be in Jeremiah’s home tonight for a lengthy period of time.
At some point, I was able to talk myself up enough to actually press the doorbell.
I shifted the bag from one hand to the other as I waited.
Jeremiah had requested a list of the ingredients needed, but I’d brought my trusty hand-mixer and other cooking utensils that I thought the average person might not have on hand in their kitchen.
Especially someone who rarely, if ever, baked.
There was the sound of solid footsteps drawing near before the lock clicked and the door opened to reveal a very casual-looking Jeremiah in joggers and a plain white tee. The magical effects of a basic white t-shirt on a man really needed to be researched.
“Hi,” he greeted. Then his eyes locked in on the bag. “Here, let me take that from you.”
It took me a second longer than normal to respond.
“Oh. Sure! Thank you.”
Get your shit together or this is going to be a long night.
He tried his best to make enough room for me to step inside, but my shoulder still brushed against his chest. Granted, I didn’t really try all that hard to avoid him.
I was pathetic. Was I really so deprived of physical touch that the slightest brush had me sweating like a sinner in church?
“Charlie is brushing her teeth after dinner. She should be done soon,” he explained, leading me into the kitchen.
I had expected granite countertops with stainless steel appliances, a cold and sterile place fit for any other millionaire, but instead, I had stepped into the coziest kitchen I had ever seen.
The walls were painted a warm yellow that reflected the setting sun perfectly against the white cabinets, creating a soft glow throughout the space.
I could hardly see the fridge underneath a collage of artwork and pictures held up by various magnets.
And then I spotted the cookie jar in the shape of a goose perched on the countertop.
Its porcelain face just begged me to fill it with delicious goodies.
Jeremiah placed my bag on the island that claimed the center of the room.
All of the ingredients I’d requested were already laid out and ready to go.
I was mentally taking stock when I felt a small, but solid nudge against my ankle.
Looking down for the culprit, I was surprised to find a black and white ball of fluff with two large ears staring up at me.
“You have a pet bunny?”
Jeremiah followed my gaze, the small rabbit having apparently snuck up on him as well. I suppose those furry feet made it easy for her to hop around unnoticed.
“That’s Delilah,” he explained. “Normally she’s fairly timid around new people, so I’m surprised she isn’t hiding out in Charlie’s room.”
She sat up on her haunches, little front paws hanging in front of her as her tiny nose wiggled so fast that I would hyperventilate if I tried to do the same. I desperately wanted to pet her, but I also didn’t want to spook her. Bunnies were prey animals after all.
“So she just runs around the house?” I asked.
“Yeah, for the most part. She stays in Charlie's room when we’re gone, and at night since it’s bunny-proofed, but otherwise she’s free to roam wherever.”
“Bunny-proofed?”
Baby-proofing a house, I understood. I’d helped Jada and Levi put outlet covers in and locks on all of their cabinets before Bash could even roll over.
“She may be small, but those little teeth can chew through cords in one bite. She’s also taken some nibbles out of the trim here and there.” He tilted his head to one side. “At least she’s litter-trained, though.”
I stared at the little puff in awe. “Wow. I didn’t know you could do that.”
“She’s good about it for the most part.” He held up a finger. “But if you see what looks like a Cocoa Puff, do not pick it up. It is not a Cocoa Puff.”
Delilah dropped back down to all fours and thumped her back foot against the hardwood before turning and sprinting out of the room.
“I guess she doesn’t like you talking about her bathroom habits,” I teased.
Jeremiah grinned at me, but then it was gone just as quick as it came, and he turned to open the fridge behind him. Odd.
A much louder set of feet came pattering down the hallway, and then Charlie slid into the kitchen. “Coach Zo!”
“Hey, Charlie girl.” I grinned. “Ready to get baking?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
She vibrated with excitement as she joined me on the other side of the island, barely tall enough to see over the edge of the counter.
“Here.” Jeremiah brought a step stool over for her.
She gripped the edge of the light wood as she stepped up, but I still held my hand out just in case she started to wobble.
“There. Much better,” I said with a smile.
We worked together to unpack the bag I’d brought and laid everything out for easy access. What I wouldn’t give to have this much counterspace at home.
“Anything I can help with?” Jeremiah checked in.
“Do you have a large mixing bowl by chance?”
Somehow a mixing bowl had slipped my mind.
Kind of important, but my brain had been so scattered stressing about tonight.
It didn’t get any clearer when he squatted down in front of one of the lower cabinets and that damn white tee grew taut across the muscles of his back and broad shoulders. And boy was I sucker for back muscles.
He dug around before retrieving a large plastic bowl. “Like this?” he checked.
I did my best to rein in my thirst and nodded, maintaining eye contact so I didn’t drool, lest his shirt now pull tight across his chest. Did I mention I had a weakness for pecs as well? Okay, maybe I just had it bad for a strong, masculine torso.
My mind flashed back to when he’d picked me up with no effort at all during our one-on-one game and I’d felt him pressed against my back and his solid arms wrapped around my middle.
At the same time, though, they’d been soft, and I imagined that he was someone who made you feel safe when he held you.
Like you were something precious. Just the thought of it made my heart ache.
Jeremiah quirked a brow, still holding the bowl out to me.
I forced a quick smile as I took the bowl and then turned to place it on the island between myself and Charlie. My safest bet was to focus on the fact that I was here to help her bake the most delicious lemon cupcakes ever. Not to ogle her father. Or wonder what it would be like to cuddle with him.
“All right.” I clapped my hands together, attempting to recenter myself. “Batter first.”
I put Jeremiah to work zesting the lemons and cutting them into quarters. Charlie helped me measure out the dry ingredients. I let her whisk them together while I mixed the butter, oil, and sugar in another bowl, stealing some of the lemon zest from Jeremiah.
“Anything else I can do?’
I raised a brow at him. “Think you could handle the icing on your own?”
“Put me in, Coach.” He saluted.
It was ridiculous, but also terribly attractive. I turned before he could see my smile and gathered what he would need. He listened intently as I talked him through the steps. It was only once he’d been able to recite the recipe step-by-step that I returned to Charlie’s side to finish the batter.
The next part was done by hand, each of us wielding a wooden spoon, so I gave Jeremiah the hand-mixer. No sooner had the thing whirred to life than there was a panicked ‘Oh crap!’ and the kitchen suddenly resembled the inside of a snow globe as confectioner’s sugar rained down around us.
Charlie broke down laughing, and I turned to find Jeremiah rocking a salt and pepper look from the sugar that had caught in his hair and eyebrows. One look at his sheepish expression, eyes wide and smile timid, and I couldn’t hold in my laughter either.
“Way to go, Daddy,” Charlie taunted.
Of course she would take this opportunity to chirp her father. It was her favorite pastime.
“Oh, Tot,” he chuckled. “You are definitely going to need a shower.”
Sure enough, Charlie’s dark locks were almost just as speckled with sugar as her father’s. I could only imagine what I might look like.
“I’ll get you a different shirt to wear,” Jeremiah offered. “It’s all over your back.”
Of course it was, but when did I not get something on me while baking?
“I’d appreciate that. Maybe we should wait until we’ve finished, though. Just in case there’s any other accidents,” I said.
“Not a bad idea.”
“I’m partially to blame. I forgot to tell you to put it on the lowest setting after you’d creamed the butter.”
I stepped over to show him how to adjust the speed, placing my hand over his and praying he couldn’t tell that I was holding my breath.
Refusing to succumb to his delicious bergamot cologne, I switched the mixer onto low with a flick of my thumb, making sure he had a good hold on it before I let go.
When given proper—and detailed—instructions, Jeremiah was a quick learner, easily turning the machine back off.
“Definitely made that harder than it is,” he said.
“If it makes you feel better, my work apron is covered in flour and batter. Hazard of the job.”
Add on that we had a standing mixer that liked to throw fits, and there were times I walked into the store bathroom not looking much better than Jeremiah.
“Makes me feel a little better,” he allowed, smiling crookedly at me.
I ignored the happy flip my heart did in my chest.
Assured that he would be all right left alone again, I rejoined Charlie.
I’d brought purple cupcake liners especially for her, and the knowing smile that crept onto her face when she saw them made me warm all over.
We prepped the two cupcake tins, and then I showed her how to use my cookie scoop to get perfectly portioned cupcakes.
She didn’t drip any of the batter and Jeremiah kept all the icing ingredients in the bowl this time.
My little apprentices were making me proud.
Once the tins were in the oven, Jeremiah gave Charlie’s shoulder a light tap.
“Why don’t you get your pjs and I’ll start your shower? Get this sugar out of your hair.” He held his hand out to help her down from the stool.
She didn’t need to be told twice, scurrying off to her room and most likely leaving a trail of sugar behind her. Jeremiah followed, and I took the opportunity to clean up what I could.
I didn’t see a broom nearby and wasn’t about to snoop, so I cleaned the sugar off the countertops first, gathering it into small piles I could scoop into my hand to dump in the trash.
Then I wiped the counters down. I was so focused on my task that I didn’t hear Jeremiah pad back into the kitchen, but I felt his presence behind me, like static electricity sparking between us.
Then he placed his hand ever so lightly on my shoulder, and a zap shot down my spine.
“Hope this works.”
Did he mean for his voice to come out so low and rumbly? Either way it was not helpful. And the wet hair dripping onto the shoulders of his clean shirt? Not fair at all.
I looked at the proffered shirt, a Seattle Cascades tee he’d clearly had for a while, which meant it was that kind of soft that only comes from a garment being properly worn in. God, this man was dangerous.
“You’re asking a Denver girlie to wear a Seattle shirt?” My gaze traveled upwards to meet his own as I let my jaw drop slightly. “Oh no. Please tell me you aren’t one of those hockey guys that likes when a girl wears his jersey.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a jersey.”
I couldn’t hide my devilish grin. He so totally was.
Deciding he’d been chirped enough tonight, I gave in and took the shirt from him, subconsciously rubbing the fabric between my fingers. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
He gave a small nod, his eyes softer now as they locked on mine.
The air crackled between us once again, but then Jeremiah took a step back and ducked his head, his loose waves flopping over his forehead.
It still didn’t hide the slight flush in his cheeks, though.
Good to know I wasn’t the only one feeling something just then.
“I-um…” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go check on Charlie really quick. Make sure she gets the sugar out. Hallway bathroom is the first door on the left.”
“Got it.”
His gaze lingered for an extra second or two before he turned for the hallway. I threw away the paper towel I’d been using and then followed his instructions, finding the bathroom easily enough.
I tried to be as careful as possible when removing my shirt so I didn’t cover the bathroom floor in sugar as well, folding it up in a way that hopefully kept the powder trapped until I got home.
Jeremiah’s shirt hung off my shoulders and reached mid-thigh, revealing just how much bigger he was than me.
I was right about it being unbelievably soft from years of wear.
And Jeremiah’s scent lingering on the fabric?
Let’s just say, I was glad I was alone with no witnesses as I indulged myself in a sniff of it.
Yup. Bergamot with a touch of something I couldn't quite place. Something specifically Jeremiah.