Page 68 of Mister Mom

Vance shares a heated look with me before returning his attention to the baking tray. Via toddles in, so I pick her up before she latches onto Vance’s leg.

“I’m crossing fingers they taste as good as they look.” He catches my eyes above Payne’s head and I so want to kiss him right now, but I know I can’t do that to the kids just yet. We need more time before the kids think anything is going on with us.

“Can I have one?” Payne asks, his fingers already moving to the hot sheet.

“Let them cool for at least a couple of minutes,” Vance says and then his gaze veers over to me again. “And you have to ask your mom.” He winks.

“Make me the bad guy, huh?” I move Via’s hands away from reaching out. “One each and then dinner.”

“Yay!” Payne runs around in circles. Via takes the cue from her brother and follows suit, screaming her excitement even though she doesn’t know what’s going on.

“How about we order pizza for dinner?” Vance asks, pulling his phone out.

“You do realize you’re going to have to write in that your female lead is ten pounds heavier pretty soon, right?” I place Via in her high chair and glance over my shoulder at him.

Vance’s eyes are focused on my ass. “You have no problem there.”

A supercharged current concentrates itself between my legs. If my kids weren’t here, I think I’d crawl up on the counter and have him eat me rather than the cookies.

* * *

Vance shuts Payne’s door quietly behind him. I’ll admit my feelings were a tad hurt when Payne asked for Vance to read him his story tonight instead of me. Even with my heart soaring seeing the two of them side by side on Payne’s bed reading about dinosaurs, I kind of wish there was room for three.

Via’s been fast asleep since right after dinner so I check on her and then shut the door, leaving us alone in the hallway.

“I have to frost the cookies,” Vance says, dodging me in my bedroom doorway and heading down the stairs.

“Seriously?” I ask, flabbergasted that the man who’s been eyeing my tits and ass all night just passed up on the promise of seeing them in all their glory to… frost cookies.

“I promised Payne I’d do it,” he tosses out over his shoulder before heading down the stairs.

Reluctantly, I follow. “Vance.” I stand in the doorway to the kitchen where he’s pulling out a stainless-steel bowl.

He looks up at me. “Don’t worry, babe, I plan on sugaring your cookie tonight, too.” He winks.

I push off the wall and decide I might as well help him to get it done faster. “Do you know how to make icing?” I ask, watching him dump a bunch of powdered sugar into a bowl.

“Not really, but I looked up a recipe online.”

“Okay, pull out your phone.”

“I looked at it earlier. I think I can wing it.”

I cock an eyebrow. Not that I’m a better option. Other than playing a baker’s assistant for a made-for-TV movie once, I know nothing about baking. “Interesting. Do you wing everything you do?”

He pours the milk in without measuring. “Pretty sure you enjoy it when I wing it.” He knocks his shoulder to mine and places his lips out for me, requesting a kiss.

I grant his wish, planting a short kiss to his lips, and then he pours some vanilla into the bowl. It’s anyone’s guess as to how much.

“I’m pretty sure baking isn’t like cooking. You need to measure.” I hoist myself up on the counter.

Grabbing the hand mixer, he starts beating the ingredients together. Ingredients I didn’t even know I had. I have to assume my mom bought them when she made Christmas pies here last month.

“Trust me,” he says, and even though I know he’s just talking about the cookies, I find that I do—on an even deeper level.

His attention is fixed on the bowl and I have to say his concoction looks good, except it’s a little watery. He dumps more powdered sugar in and then grabs some corn syrup and pours it in.

“You’re seriously going to make me have to use the excuse that cameras make you gain twenty pounds, not ten.” I pick up the bottom. “Pure sugar.”

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