Chapter 3 Mark
Mark
She’s like a delicate little fairy standing there sparkling with little flakes of flour still dancing in the air around her like magic fairy dust.
She’s pale and soft, with curves like a mountain road and the most beautiful cinnamon eyes I’ve ever seen.
Warm and bright and smiling. Her chestnut hair is wild, wavy and down to the middle of her back.
Immediately all I can think about is getting my hands on it.
Wrapping it around my fingers until she can’t move, can’t get away from me.
I feel like a lunatic and I can tell that Casey is noticing that something’s up.
Hopefully she doesn’t guess because the girl has been driving me crazy trying to set me up with all kinds of women that come into the bakery.
If she figures out that I want this one, she might just push a little faster than she’s ready to go.
I’m all in. I’m not sure I should be. My ex kinda proved that women can be downright untrustworthy but something about this smiling, glorious angel makes me think that when she decides who is hers, she doesn’t run away.
Since that’s me…well, we’ll work on it.
I glance up and see a sudden look of weariness cross her delicate face and that sparkle that exists around her seems to dim just a little bit.
“Alright, kids! Time to clean up and put our things in the oven. I’ll grab them for you and we’ll get them baked.
While we’re baking, I’m going to show you some different ways that you can change up a plain muffin recipe, which I’ve also included for you guys.
If you come to my next class, we’re going to work on those.
So be thinking about which ones you want to do. ”
I move away from the kids and nod my head at Casey to indicate she should help the kids. With a few quick trips I’ve got the stuff baking and Casey is showing the kids how the timers work on the ovens.
“Hey,” I whisper, standing next to her. “Are you alright?”
She looks up at me and I swear it feels like I’m falling when I look in her soft brown eyes. Honey brown and green flecks are scattered in her irises and my eyes can’t seem to look away. I’m struck dumb by how damn beautiful she is.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You look tired. Like you’re running on fumes right now. I just wondered if you’re okay.”
Her brows crinkle up and she smiles at me. “I’m fine. I just have issues with getting tired.”
Studying her, I know that she’s not telling me the truth. Or at least she’s omitting something bigger than she gets tired. But I don’t push her. Something says that this woman is a little skittish around men. Hell, maybe around everyone.
“Hi!” A bright voice beside us makes me cringe and the sparkle in Casey’s eyes has me backing away from Lily quickly.
“Did you like the class? My dad is a really great teacher. All the kids talk about him all the time. All the moms too.”
Lily smirks. “I just bet they do.”
I think for the first time in my life, I actually blush. I can feel it burning on my cheeks and all the way to the roots of my hair and she laughs.
“Did you get everything you need?”
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to sit over here out of the way and watch you talk to the kids about these substitutions. See what else you’re doing besides teaching them to cook.”
“I’m teaching them to bake. A lot of times if someone’s an amazing baker they’re a terrible cook. And vice versa.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, cooking and baking are not the same things really. Baking is very much chemical. Cream of tartar adds a light, airy feeling and helps cookies rise. Flour contains gluten and if you’re making something gluten-free you need to use the right ingredients to simulate that or the recipe doesn’t work.
Different reactions for different ingredients. Baking is more exact.”
“Cooking on the other hand, I know some people that literally never pull out a measuring cup or spoon in their kitchen and yet they’re amazing cooks. They can taste the dish and just tell, a little more of this, a dash more of that. But it’s more instinct and palate. Less exact science.”
“Ah, I see.” She grins at Casey. “So your dad is a terrible cook than. Because he must be an awesome baker to work here.”
Casey lights up like a Christmas tree. She does love to brag about her old man. “Actually, my dad is a unicorn among guys. He can cook and bake.”
Her brows lift and she juts her chin out at me. “Oh, really? Breaking your own rules, huh?”
Casey laughs. “We have to eat.”
“Doesn’t your mom cook?”
“Umm,” Casey glances over at me.
“You forgot. All of us here are single dads. My ex actually took off when Casey was really small. We’ve been alone a long time. But we make it work, don’t we, kiddo?”
Snorting, Casey grins and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, Dad.”
“Why don’t you go make sure everyone’s got their recipes out and they’re looking them over. I’ll be back in a minute, as soon as I get Lily settled.”
Casey salutes and I growl, “Smarty Pants.”
She giggles and runs off and I turn back to Lily, crossing my arms over my chest and almost fist bumping when the goddess in front of me follows the movement, her heated gaze catching on the gun show I’m sporting.
“If you have any questions, just let me know and I’ll be happy to answer them.”
Lily smiles again but there’s something about it that looks off, pulled tight. It’s bothering me.
“I will do that.” And then she salutes me too and I growl under my breath, wondering if I should offer to spank her ass since she’s being a naughty, damn girl.
But I keep that to myself. Soon. If I have my way it’s going to be damn soon.
“Alright, guys. You are free to go. Study those papers and decide if you’re going to try one of the substitutions we went over or if you’re going to try your own. Write it down. Because I’ll quiz you on it as soon as we start class next week. And then we’ll put your ideas into practice.”
The kids charge out the doors, chattering a mile a minute and holding their precious cargo, the delicious scones they all made tonight.
Every single one of them turned out beautifully and I couldn’t be prouder if they were my own kids.
A chair screeches behind me and I turn to look at the straggler.
Lily.
Lord, she’s pretty. I couldn’t keep from looking at her every chance I got. She lights up any room she’s in, I’m sure.
But as time went on, her eyes and lips started to get a strained look to them and I’m almost sure she’s got a headache but she’s a bit stubborn. I can tell.
She wasn’t willing to let her work suffer for it so she never said a word.
I stand in front of her as she gathers up her notebook and camera, along with her keys and a purse that looks like a little pale green backpack.
It’s just as cute as she is.
But as soon as she stands, I realize that there’s something really wrong here.
Her eyes seem to go blank and she blinks dazedly at me.
I growl and run my hand up her arm, trying to get her attention, but nothing happens. She doesn’t even blink.
Houston, we have a problem.