Page 51 of Storm in a Teacup
“Croissants,” I answer, opening up the fridge to retrieve the dough I prepped yesterday and let chill overnight. “We’re going to roll it out, cut the dough, then roll the croissants up and let them sit for an hour or so before they bake.”
I drop the dough on the counter, then hand her a rolling pin. She takes one step toward the dough, but I halt her. “Sorry. Wait. Have you a hair tie?” Her long hair is down and loose around her shoulders, fiery and bright, but I can’t have those long strands making their way into my food.
Her fingers meet the ends of her hair. “Oh. No.” She goes to leave, holding the rolling pin out to me and saying, “I’ll go grab one.”
I halt her again with, “No need.”
I pop out of the kitchen, pulling off my gloves as I go, heading behind the counter to fetch a pink scrunchie from the bucket Isla keeps behind the counter.
I push back through the kitchen door. “Isla has an abundance of these. Mostly for Rachel.”
Linny holds out her hand for me to give her the scrunchie, but I choose to stroll behind her to handle the hair myself. “You’ve still got those gloves on,” I say as an explanation. I gather her soft hair in my hands, fingers brushing her neck as I collect all the loose strands.
This is normal fake dating behavior,said no one ever. I see a visible chill run down her spine from the contact, my cock twitching at the reaction.Fuck,there he goes again. I quickly slip the scrunchie around her gathered hair, tightening it at the base of her neck so I can step away.
She clears her throat. “Thanks.”
Once again, my tadger is attempting to make himself known, but I am begging him to take it easy. In response, I say, “Your hair is wicked soft, Lin.” I clear my throat. “So, let’s roll the dough.”
She presses the pin into the dough, stretching it into a long rectangle as she goes. I watch over her shoulder.
“You need to put even pressure on it so it can all be the same width,” I say.
“Like this?” she asks, rolling again.
“More like”—I reach over her, caging her in as I place my hands over hers on the rolling pin—“this.” I press gently so that she will do the same, rolling the dough together until it reaches the size I want. “There we are,” I say, knowing I should retreat, but staying firmly put.
She angles her head up toward me, eyes radiant through her glasses and mouth so goddamn close to mine. “Are you making a move, Bennett Pyeon?” she teases. “Because it feels like you’re trying to teach me to play pool or hit a baseball.”
I bite the corner of my mouth as I release her and step back. “No. I’m just far too controlling when it comes to this stuff.” I grab arolling knife and step up next to her against the counter. “We need to cut the dough into equal-sized rectangles. I’ll do it.”
When I’m done, I pick up one rectangle and hold it up to her eye level. “Look at all those layers.”
“Those are some nice layers.”
“They are somebeautifullayers.”
I slice the rectangles into triangles, then we roll them up together, starting with the top of the triangle and rolling in. We set them on the baking sheet.
“Like I said, they have to sit for an hour before we bake. Now, I move on to muffins. Want to help with those?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. Free labor.”
I snort. “Naw, you’re here to keep me company.” I open the fridge to take out the frozen blueberries, tossing them at her. She catches the bag in one swift motion. “And for your free labor.”
“Can’t believe you don’t use fresh blueberries,” she says in mock astonishment.
“They’re more expensive than the frozen,” I explain. “Isla won’t let me buy fresh.”
I hand her my recipe card for the blueberry muffins. “These are simple if you want to get started on them, just follow my recipe. I’ll get to work on the double chocolate muffins.” I know my recipes by heart, so no need for a card for myself.
We split into two mixers, she creating her muffins and I creating mine as the oven heats up. When the oven is ready and all muffin batter is in the appropriate pans, we slide them in, one pan at a time.
I switch on another row of the oven so I can get the croissants baking soon.
“Next, banana loaf and cranberry scones. You take the loaf and I take the scones.”
“How about I do the scones?”
