Page 34 of Miss Humbug
“No, that’s cool. Sorry, I zoned out.” Today he had on a dark gray Henley shirt and worn but clean jeans. I found myself marveling at how mature he seemed, while still acting like the guy I’d run around with as a kid. I wanted to know everything about this familiar-but-new person I’d been spending so much time with.
He knocked once against the countertop. “I guess we should make a game day plan for Tasty Bake.”
I snorted laughing. My hand flew to my mouth to stifle my cackles.
“What? Now I’m getting paranoid.”
I shook my head. “It’s just…Tasty Bake. To hear you act so serious about a thing calledTasty Bake.”
“Okay, whatever.” He made a show of walking off.
He sharply circled back and grabbed me so quickly I squealed. Hauling me over his shoulder, he left the kitchen and tossed me onto the big couch in the family room.
“Ethan!” I shrieked, laughing.
“You dare to laugh at Tasty Bake?” He stood over me, smirking. “I’ll have you know Tasty Bake is a real challenge. One of the judges is a trained pastry chef.”
My laughter petered out. He was right. This part of the competition would be more challenging than the bake sale. This involved real judges, not limited to Grans’ crew. Though they’d be there too.
“I’m getting worried,” I admitted as I stood again and returned to the kitchen. “Maybe I haven’t taken this cake seriously.”
As my recipe testing proved, I did not excel at the baking arts. My first yule log cake came out dry. The second too doughy, so not baked long enough. The rolling up process often took out chunks of my cake. I never expected to dust sugar on a dish towel as part of a recipe. I was meant to lay the cake flat against the clean and dusted towel, then to roll into a log shape. I had to get the timing right before the cake fully cooled but wasn’t too hot either.
“Maybe we pivot,” Ethan suggested. “The yule log is a classic, but we can do better.”
We pulled out Grans’ cookbooks again and went to work searching for the right recipe.
I hadn’t felt this happy about cooking…probably ever. I was pretty sure it had to do more with the cook than the book.
We decided on a cake and made a new plan. Test bake first and refine from there. After the cake cooled, we experimented with decorating. Anyone who could pipe a cake with buttercream frosting deserved infinite respect.
Ethan had an early start the following morning, so I walked him out. As usual, we stood by his truck door talking for too long until I started shivering.
“Here, take my coat.” He handed it over.
“No, it’s fine. You’re leaving. I should wear my own coat out. This happens every time.”
His grin turned my insides to pudding. Probably figgy pudding since my life had turned so darned festive these days.
I slid on the coat and burrowed down. The lingering warmth from his body paired with faint woodsy tree scents provided instant comfort. A quiet hush descended between us. The dark sky offered the perfect backdrop for stars. With the perfect companion for stargazing.
“Remember when we used to look at the stars?”
He grinned. “We’d grab blankets and stare up at the sky for hours on summer nights. Fall nights, winter nights. All lot of nights.”
So many nights together, innocently enjoying each other’s company.
I could tell him right now how much I’d enjoyed being with him.
He watched me. I looked away.Stop being shy. Just get out with it!
“It’s been nice being back.”Nice. Hello, vagueness. Nice could mean anything.
He opened the truck door. “It’s been nice having you back, too. It’s like being kids again, but better since we don’t have curfew. Even though I’m headed to bed by nine-thirty.” He laughed. “Anyway, it’s good to feel part of the family again. I missed it.”
Part of the family. Right.
“Like having my kid sister home again.”
