flour.
James pressed his lips together. “Stop laughing at me. I don’t laugh at you in lab.”
“Yeah, because I’m not a complete spaz. There’s flour everywhere.” Kate stifled another giggle when he glared at her. “You’re right. I’m not being very professional. Carry on.”
James showed her his palms, which were covered in sticky dough. “You said to scoop the dough out of the bowl and pat it in place. How am I supposed to get this into that pan?”
“Your hands are too warm, they’re melting the butter.” She pulled a glob off him. “The trick is to work fast.” She patted it in place.
James shrugged.
Kate held his wrist steady while she scraped the mixture off his skin. His pulse pounded against her fingers. He was taking quick, shallow breaths and relaxed into her grasp. She cleaned his other hand and then instructed him to wash his hands. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Direct contact made her lose focus.
“Now what?” James came back with wet hands.
“Now you dry your hands. With a towel.”
“Funny. I meant the pan.”
“Now we bake, and while we wait, we make the custard. Here, put this in the oven, and set a timer for twenty minutes.”
James followed the directions and then grabbed a tiny white timer off the side of his fridge.
“Did you steal that from school?”
James’ eyes darted away. “I wouldn’t do that. Stealing is wrong .”
Kate chuckled. “Okay, now we’re going to beat these eggs until the protein structure starts to open up, and as we add sugar gradually, the albumen will hold the sucrose in place.”
James grinned. “This is my kind of baking.”
“See? Just like lab, only delicious.”
They assembled the rest of the ingredients just as the timer beeped. “Why do I feel like I should be getting something out of the water bath in lab?”
He seemed to appreciate her joke, even if it did point a finger at him stealing.
She guided him to pour the thick lemon custard on top of the hot cookie, and then put it back in the oven. “Now we wait.”
“How long?” James fidgeted.
“Just long enough to clean up. I’ll wash. You dry.”
He came up next to her at the sink. “How long have you been cooking?”
“Since I was six. My mom caught me cooking eggs for myself one morning. She started giving me supervised lessons that day, worried I might catch the house on fire.” She handed him the clean mixing bowl.
“Wow. No wonder you’re so good.”
“Thanks.” She blushed. Her phone vibrated twice in her front pocket. She dried her hands on her jeans and pulled it out. She huffed as she read the text.
“What is it?” James furrowed his brow.
“So much for my plans later. Tim’s blowing me off.” She pushed her phone back into her pocket and faced the sink and growled. “Seriously? He’s going to change his plans with me just because Mark wants to hang out. Ooo Mark,” she mocked.
“Who’s Mark?”
“Tim’s boyfriend. What am I? Chopped liver?” she grunted.
Chapter 8
“Tim’s boyfriend.” James repeated. “Tim is with Mark.” His mouth hung open as reality settled in. He was wrong about everything: she wasn’t in a relationship, she didn’t cheat on anyone, and Tim dated men.
“I guess they are right now. If you ask me, Tim deserves better than Mark. Honestly, what kind of a douche bag would string Tim along like that?” Her jaw was clenched. She shoved the spatula into the towel draped over his hands, and then she sighed. “Sorry. I’m done ranting.”
James tilted his head. “So, you and Tim are friends.”
“Yep.”
“Just friends.” He needed to be absolutely clear.
Kate gasped. “Wait. Did you think Tim and I were together?” Her eyes were wide.
James shrugged and looked away. “Well, yeah.”
She burst out laughing. “Meg always jokes that we would be perfect for each other, if only I had the right equipment.” She gestured to her pants and then covered her mouth and continued
James pressed his lips together. “Stop laughing at me. I don’t laugh at you in lab.”
“Yeah, because I’m not a complete spaz. There’s flour everywhere.” Kate stifled another giggle when he glared at her. “You’re right. I’m not being very professional. Carry on.”
James showed her his palms, which were covered in sticky dough. “You said to scoop the dough out of the bowl and pat it in place. How am I supposed to get this into that pan?”
“Your hands are too warm, they’re melting the butter.” She pulled a glob off him. “The trick is to work fast.” She patted it in place.
James shrugged.
Kate held his wrist steady while she scraped the mixture off his skin. His pulse pounded against her fingers. He was taking quick, shallow breaths and relaxed into her grasp. She cleaned his other hand and then instructed him to wash his hands. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Direct contact made her lose focus.
“Now what?” James came back with wet hands.
“Now you dry your hands. With a towel.”
“Funny. I meant the pan.”
“Now we bake, and while we wait, we make the custard. Here, put this in the oven, and set a timer for twenty minutes.”
James followed the directions and then grabbed a tiny white timer off the side of his fridge.
“Did you steal that from school?”
James’ eyes darted away. “I wouldn’t do that. Stealing is wrong .”
Kate chuckled. “Okay, now we’re going to beat these eggs until the protein structure starts to open up, and as we add sugar gradually, the albumen will hold the sucrose in place.”
James grinned. “This is my kind of baking.”
“See? Just like lab, only delicious.”
They assembled the rest of the ingredients just as the timer beeped. “Why do I feel like I should be getting something out of the water bath in lab?”
He seemed to appreciate her joke, even if it did point a finger at him stealing.
She guided him to pour the thick lemon custard on top of the hot cookie, and then put it back in the oven. “Now we wait.”
“How long?” James fidgeted.
“Just long enough to clean up. I’ll wash. You dry.”
He came up next to her at the sink. “How long have you been cooking?”
“Since I was six. My mom caught me cooking eggs for myself one morning. She started giving me supervised lessons that day, worried I might catch the house on fire.” She handed him the clean mixing bowl.
“Wow. No wonder you’re so good.”
“Thanks.” She blushed. Her phone vibrated twice in her front pocket. She dried her hands on her jeans and pulled it out. She huffed as she read the text.
“What is it?” James furrowed his brow.
“So much for my plans later. Tim’s blowing me off.” She pushed her phone back into her pocket and faced the sink and growled. “Seriously? He’s going to change his plans with me just because Mark wants to hang out. Ooo Mark,” she mocked.
“Who’s Mark?”
“Tim’s boyfriend. What am I? Chopped liver?” she grunted.
Chapter 8
“Tim’s boyfriend.” James repeated. “Tim is with Mark.” His mouth hung open as reality settled in. He was wrong about everything: she wasn’t in a relationship, she didn’t cheat on anyone, and Tim dated men.
“I guess they are right now. If you ask me, Tim deserves better than Mark. Honestly, what kind of a douche bag would string Tim along like that?” Her jaw was clenched. She shoved the spatula into the towel draped over his hands, and then she sighed. “Sorry. I’m done ranting.”
James tilted his head. “So, you and Tim are friends.”
“Yep.”
“Just friends.” He needed to be absolutely clear.
Kate gasped. “Wait. Did you think Tim and I were together?” Her eyes were wide.
James shrugged and looked away. “Well, yeah.”
She burst out laughing. “Meg always jokes that we would be perfect for each other, if only I had the right equipment.” She gestured to her pants and then covered her mouth and continued
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