Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Elena had thrown him off-balance with her sudden passion, followed by the equally sudden shutdown in the middle of their kiss. At first, he feared he’d crossed some boundary or made some other stupid mistake. She’d promised it wasn’t his fault, and she said she didn’t want to move too fast. Maybe she didn’t want to give too much.
Then her reactions to the kitchen tour encouraged him, and he figured giving her the opportunity to flex her creative skills might be a good way to slow things down without ending the night outright.
He opened the door to the second cooler and pulled out a small, two-layer chocolate cake. It was pretty rough, since it only had a crumb coat of icing so far. The thin layer of Italian buttercream he’d applied this morning caught crumbs from the cake and trapped them once it set. Additional decorative coats of icing would remain pristine thanks to the crumb coat.
“I thought you only made cookies here. What’s this?” Elena asked.
“You are right, I only sell cookies, but I make cakes on the down-low for a select few. My buddy Trey ordered this for his fianc é e, Iris. It’s her birthday tomorrow.”
“It’s … interesting.” Elena gave the cake a suspicious once-over.
“It’s not done yet, and that’s why I need your help. Do you think your artistic skills would transfer to cake decorations?”
Elena assessed the cake, clicking her tongue as she considered it. “I can try, provided your friend won’t be heartbroken if it’s not perfect.”
“He’s getting the best-friend discount—which means free—so he can’t be too picky. Also, I’m pretty good at laying down the base layers, but piping work isn’t my forte. Usually, my assistant Carmen gives me a hand. She’s had to leave early the last few days and didn’t have time to decorate for a pro bono job.”
“Okay. I’ll give it a try. It always looks fun on TV.” Her willingness to experience new things charmed him, made him wish he were easygoing in unfamiliar situations.
“Now, no one touches anything in this kitchen without washing their hands, not even you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She pulled an elastic band out of her dress pocket.
“You’re practically ready to run the place,” he said as she secured her hair in a tight bun. The different hairstyle showed off her long neck and defined cheekbones. She caught him looking.
Laughing, she went to the handwash station, and they took turns soaping up at the small designated sink. When the health inspector came by, one of the first things he did was check that the soap at the handwash sink was stocked and the water ran hot. Clean hands were the foundation of a clean kitchen. Lawrence balled up their damp paper towels and tossed them in the open trash can near the workbench.
“Ready for a world-class education in cake decorating?” he asked her, balancing the cake on one hand.
“Whoa, aren’t you scared to drop it?” Elena stepped forward as if she might have to catch the cake.
“It’s pretty stable on its cake round here, see?” He held the cake aloft, high over her head, to show her the cardboard base.
“Don’t you dare drop it on me, mister.” She ducked. His spine straightened, proud he’d gotten her to relax and joke again. “Although that would be pretty funny. Make for a great story.”
“Cake making is serious business; I won’t be pulling any pranks. You, however, I’m not sure about.”
“I promise to be good.”
“That remains to be seen. And I have my doubts. Okay, we put this little guy right here.” He placed the cake on a turn-top stand and let Elena give it a whirl. He adored the way her eyes shone over the things he took for granted. “Now, tools and icing.”
Elena leaned against the workbench while he laid out an offset metal icing spatula, premade plastic icing bags filled with various colors, and a rose nail. He’d gotten used to giving cooking demos in school but never for someone as gorgeous as Elena and his nerves kicked up a notch as she watched his every move. It’s okay, take it easy, she hasn’t dipped out yet, even after that reaction in the front of the house .
He let Elena peel back the plastic wrap from the surface of a bowl of pale-pink icing, then he took big blobs of the frosting with his spatula. He slapped them on the sides and top of the cake.
“Man, I thought you were being modest when you said decorating isn’t your strong suit, but this looks awful,” Elena teased, hip checking him. At least she wasn’t planning to never touch him again.
“Voil à .” He spun the cake, holding the edge of the spatula against it as the frosting transformed to a smooth surface in a matter of seconds.
Elena clapped. “Oh my, is that how you do it? You should see me trying to frost a cake. I always use a butter knife.”
“That’s a shocking fact to spring on me, Elena. Warn a guy before you drop that bomb.” She hip-checked him again, then rested her head against his arm for a second. Okay, heading in a better direction. “Your canvas is ready.”
He handed her an icing bag fitted with a rosette tip and filled with dark-pink icing. She stared at it, her tongue sneaking out of the corner of her mouth. “I have no idea where to start.”
“May I?” he asked, reaching for her hand. She nodded, and he felt grateful for the excuse to touch her, be close to her again. “Balance the metal tip on your left forefinger, and hold back here with your right hand to put pressure. Uh-oh, hold on a sec—”
A vision of her squeezing the frosting all over her hand from the top of the bag by mistake stopped the lesson in its tracks. He retrieved a rubber band from a nearby drawer and tied off the top. “Just to be safe.”
“I appreciate that. I assume you’ve seen the paint stains on my hands and realize what a mess I can be.”
“I like your multicolored hands.” She snuggled in closer as he put his arms around her to demonstrate the technique. Her hair smelled incredible, like flowers. He didn’t know enough about flowers to guess which ones. Maybe the type that bloomed wild on a sultry summer night. “Now, a little pressure here. Good, good. Lift it away.”
“We made a rosette,” she exclaimed, as enthusiastic as if she’d piped a complex masterpiece fit for a royal wedding cake. This was his favorite part of baking, the fun of discovering the magic you could make.
“And what a perfect one too. Are you hustling me, Elena Rachel Voss? Have you secretly won The Great British Bake Off ?”
“I wish. That show is the best. Relaxes me like no other. And they call cookies biscuits. How cute is that?”
His eyes ran over her sweet, cheerful face. “Not as cute as you. But cute.”
“You’re kinda cute yourself.” She arched an eyebrow. His whole body yearned to close any gap between them, to kiss her again. She brushed against him when she moved. Afraid to upset her, he stood still as she piped a second rosette on her own. “This is fun. What’s next?”
He showed her ruffles, dots, even buttercream roses with light-green leaves. The roses were much more advanced than rosettes, and she couldn’t quite master them. He basked in her look of admiration as she watched him pipe them on the rose nail at super speed and transfer them to the cake using the spatula.
“Who’s the hustler now, Mr. Higgins? Those roses are perfect,” she said when he added the final one to the cake top. “I’m going to practice, and next time I’m going to beat you at your rose game.”
“So, there will be a next time? You promise?” he asked, without giving himself a chance to fret or hold back. He couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t try.
The kitchen felt unnaturally hot, even with the ovens off, in the pause before her response. She turned away from the workbench, placed a hesitant hand on his chest. Breathe like a normal human , he ordered himself, so she wouldn’t feel his apprehension. He watched her take her own deep breath, sensed she was debating her answer.
“I absolutely do.” Her fingers traced up to the place where his shoulder met his neck. She bit her lip and again gave him the impression she wasn’t sure about the next step. “One last kiss before the night is over?”
He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. She leaned against his hand, looked up at him with deep, dark eyes.
He kissed her, or she kissed him, he couldn’t tell who moved first, just that he had her against him again. And how much he needed it to stay that way.