Page 22 of Say It Isn't Snow
I do as she instructs, finding two thick hunks of cookie dough in the fridge. She has the dough coming together in the mixer faster than I expect while I’m still searching for the edge of the plastic wrap to get the first one open. She bumps my hip with hers and trades me for the newly wrapped dough when it’s finished.
“Here, put this in there to chill.”
“That was fast.”
She scrunches her face in thought. “I’ve made about…seventy batches of these between my cookie orders and the shop’s regular menu in the last few weeks. I can do this in my sleep.”
“Impressive,” I praise.
Whenever I compliment her, she’s like a flower seeking the sun, basking in it.
“Okay. Now the fun part—rolling and cutting out our shapes,” she says.
Holly starts a holiday playlist on her phone. She gives me her rolling pin, then rifles through the drawer for the old one that’s been here for ages. After she gives a quick demonstration, we get to work. She makes it look easy, even with a battered tool.
“You want to go back and forth so it spreads evenly. Long strokes,” she advises, watching my clumsy technique.
I can’t help the innuendo my mind turns her wisdom into. “Yeah? Long, hard strokes?”
Her tongue clicks and she rolls her eyes sardonically. “Not too hard.”
“Mm, no.” I chuckle. “Hang on. How are you getting yours all nice like that?”
“Like this.”
She covers my hands with hers to teach me. I’m not paying attention to the dough anymore, too occupied with her.
The feel of her fingers curled around mine makes me swallow thickly. She has no idea how her simple touch is on the brink of sending me to my knees.
Our eyes lock. I hold her attention, not hiding the longing in my stare. My heart thuds, hard and persistent.
She licks her lips and averts her gaze. When she’s satisfied, she nods.
“That’s good. Take your pick of the cutters.”
As we cut the shapes, we continue trading banter. Spending time with her like this brings me immeasurable enjoyment.
We get our cookies into the oven to bake once they’re ready. It smells amazing and I’m looking forward to trying them.
The timer goes off ten minutes later. I admire her ass when she bends to pull out the trays, swallowing an appreciative groan.
“What’s next?” I eat the scrap pieces of cookie dough.
She snags one from me with a sly expression and pops it in her mouth. “Making icing.”
I get out of her way as she whips it up. Whenever she’s not looking, I keep stealing some with my finger.
“Oh my god, you’re unstoppable.” She giggles, wrestling the bowl from me. “Stop eating it all, or we won’t have any to decorate with.”
I wind an arm around Holly’s middle, tugging her back against my chest. “One more taste. I’m not above putting you in air jail to get it. I might be a professional athlete, but I’m still human. Sometimes a man just wants a sweet treat.”
If I could have her, that would be an even better one.
Her shoulders shake with laughter. It’s infectious.
“We’re making the sweet treat still. Be patient.” She holds the bowl overhead like it will do anything to keep it away from me.
“Did you forget I’m a foot taller than you?” I swipe it from her.
