Page 47 of Sugar Baby Mine

“Okay, that sounds easy.”

“Very.” He hands me a carton from the fridge and motions to the navy blue stand mixer on the counter next to the stove.

I grab the measuring cup he offers out next and fill it with the liquid before dumping it in the mixing bowl.

“Now watch the magic happen. We’re making peanut butter mousse.”

He turns the mixer on, and I blink down at the whisk starting to turn. Just when it starts to get thick, Ben turns me back to the stove. He holds his hand just over it and must deem it hot enough because he has me drop the chicken in. The immediate sizzle and pop makes me jump back.

“That’s why we have an apron, I don’t want you to have to strip down while we clean your clothes. Oil stains are hard to get out.”

Something makes me think he wouldn’tactuallymind.

He checks the bowl of whipping cream which is just…whipped cream now. I’m transfixed by the way it clings to the whisk when he pulls the bowl out and taps the excess off on the edge.

“What’s your favorite color?”

I’m caught off guard, tearing my attention away from watching him replace the bowl under the mixer with an empty one.

“Purple. Am I too obvious?”

His lips twitch up into a smile, and his head bobs in a nod. “Maybe a little.”

“What’s yours?”

“Green. The color of jade.”

He hands me a silicone spoon and I set it next to the bowl of whipped cream, glancing at where the skillet still sizzling away.

“I know your favorite takeout, but what about your favorite food?”

“That’s difficult because there are categories of food, Ben. You should know this.” He looks at me skeptically, but allows me to continue. “First of all, sweets and candy are separate categories—sweets, it’s anything lemon. God, I’m a slut for lemon. Candy is gummy bears. Then there’s salty—soft pretzel bites. Savory—steak is the superior umami flavor. And finally, there’s comfort food—grilled cheese.”

“You made that way more complicated than it needed to be,” he says with a laugh. “But I love that you’re passionate about food, even if you can’t cook it.”

“Oh, I’m very passionate about eating. What’s your answer?”

“Mmm. A good cheeseburger is my guilty pleasure.”

He pauses like he just dropped a bombshell and I just give a hum of affirmation, because I can get behind a cheeseburger no problem.

“What’s your go-to coffee order?” he asks.

“I’m lucky to like coffee at all. It has to beextremelysweet. You weren’t wrong when you said I had a sweet tooth. Like a cold brew with three pumps vanilla, three pumps caramel, with sweet-cream cold foam from Starbucks sweet.”

Ben smooths a hand over his beard before grabbing another measuring cup. “I’m a sweet guy, too. I like a good mocha Frappuccino when I want something besides a cappuccino.”

Interesting. I would have pegged him for a black coffee. Maybe even decaf.

“Well, that wasn’t on my bingo card. What about your favorite thing to do outside of work?”

“Besides you?”

I flick a dollop of the whipped cream in his direction and itlands smack dab in the middle of his chest, barely within the edges of the apron’s fabric.

“Okay, fine.” He measures out some powdered sugar and tosses it in the new bowl along with a brick of cream cheese. “I go to the gym a couple times a week, but that’s stillworkin my opinion. I do this.” He shrugs, gesturing to the space around us. “I love to cook. And you?”

There’s not much I do.

---