Page 85 of Undeniably Corrupt
Oh, hell.
I sigh and sag to about half my size. “I’m sorry I said shut up,” I grumble like a scolded child and catch Liora giggling from the other room.
Hazel beams at me, scissoring her little legs back and forth, especially when I take out the chocolate chips and slide her down toward the standing mixer. Song after song plays that she hums or sings along to in her childlike way while she helps me crack eggs and add flour to a bowl, making a white mess of both of us. I feed her chocolate chips, and she shoves some in my face.
She’s as smart and playful as her mother. It makes me want to spoil her too.
Would our child look like Hazel? It’s impossible not to wonder.
It’s fun. I can’t deny it. Only with this kid do I blow off work in favor of doing things only children can get away with.
We fold the rest of the chocolate chips into the dough, and when we’re all done and they’re ready to go in the oven, I set her on the floor. She goes running off, and I turn around with trays full of unbaked cookies in my hands to find Liora leaning against the doorframe.
“Now who’s the one watching?” I tease as I slide two trays into the oven.
She crosses the room and jumps up on the counter where I had Hazel a moment before. Grabbing a spoon from the drawer beneath her, she takes a scoop of the dough and pops it into her mouth.
“Yum. That’s good.”
“There’s raw egg in there.”
She winks at me. “I like living dangerously.”
I come over and hop up on the counter beside her, set thetimer on my phone and steal the spoon from her so I can take a bite of the dough too.
“You were right. It’s good.”
“See.” She steals the spoon back.
“You’re swallowing my spit,” I tell her, eyeing the spoon as she takes more dough with it and eats it.
“It’s the only thing of yours I’ll ever swallow.”
“You’re eating my batter, so we both know that’s not true.” I smirk at her.
“Not your baby batter, though. And I think this is dough, not batter.” She smiles, nudging me with her elbow.
“Dough wouldn’t have worked as well.” I nudge her back, snatch the spoon, and eat more dough. I don’t even want it. I just want to eat from her spoon like I’m a teenage boy all over again.
“Thanks for baking with her.”
“You’re welcome. It was fun. Did you get your work done?”
“I did. You can go work if you need to.”
“Or we could watch a movie under the blanket. And when Hazel falls asleep, I’ll make you come.”
She shakes her head at me. “We’re not dating.”
I give her an affronted look I’m positive I’m not selling. “Whoever said we were? God, obsessed with me much?”
She snorts and nudges me again. “You’re not making me come anymore. No more sex.”
My lips pinch. “That sounds like a dumb rule.”
“You agreed to it.”
“I would have told you I was becoming a monk to get you out of that apartment. And we broke that rule, as I think we both knew we would.”
