Page 23 of Arctic Panda's Secret Mate
“I’ll make you measure and stir everything,” Haisley promised. “And they don’t know I’m here. And they won’t unlessyoutell them.”
“I won’t tell,” Tristan said earnestly.
Haisley somehow knew that she could believe him, even if she wasn’t surewhy.
19
TRISTAN
Tristan made several more attempts to bring up the subject of shifters with Haisley as they talked about cookies. She showed him where the cookie cutters and pastry bags were, and described how to use them. “We’ve got a bear cutter,” she teased. “But it’s more of a teddy bear than a panda bear.”
“What do you think about…magic?” Tristan asked cautiously.
Haisley gave him a shy sideways smile. “Like witches and werewolves?”
“Well, likewerewolves.”
“Well, don’t judge me, but I liked Twilight,” Haisley said. “I always shipped Jacob, not Edward.”
Tristan had only the foggiest idea of the plot of Twilight, but he knew it was a book universally panned byactualshifters. “Kind of, but not really. That’s like…carob compared to chocolate.”
“Oh, carob isn’t all bad!” Haisley protested, before Tristan could follow the analogy with an explanation of shifters. “People who expect it to taste like chocolate aredisappointed, but it has a very good place in a complete kitchen. It has a natural, slightly nutty flavor that pairs nicely with ginger and maple syrup. I have a wonderful cookie recipe! It’s not vegan, because it uses an egg, but it’s dairy-free. I have all the ingredients for it. It’s fast. We could even whip up a tiny batch tonight, if you wanted to taste it.”
Taste it!his panda encouraged.Taste it all!
Tristan cast a look at the doorway. The chalet was quiet. Cookies sounded good. And he wanted a reason to stay up with Haisley as long as possible. “Yes?” He heard himself say. “Yes. I’d like that.”
Haisley bounced in place and clapped her hands, then glanced at the doorway and put a hand over her mouth. “Quietly, though,” she stage-whispered. She danced to the bank of ovens and turned on the smallest one, snatching an apron off a hook and pulling it over her head.
“You have to be careful with maple syrup,” Haisley explained, as she tied her apron and gathered all of the ingredients. “It’s sweeter than you might expect it to be. There’s no butter, and you can use coconut oil, but I prefer the neutral taste of canola. You’ve already got the subtle carob and the maple that would be easy to overwhelm. Coconut is all the rage, but it can get to the point whereeverythingtastes like sunscreen.”
Tristan measured as she directed him and went on. “This is less than I usually make, it will only be about a dozen. It’s so funny, I’m almost always doing math the other direction for extra guests. I’m going to whisk the whole egg. Eggs are always a bit of a variable, because even with grocery store grades, a large egg is not a large egg is not a large egg. Most recipes are flexible enough that you can just use a whole egg when you’re dividing, and it’sa little fluffier. No one minds fluffier. Unless you’re a runway model. Man, are they hard to cook for.”
Tristan stirred too hard and flour flew out of the bowl. “Er, sorry!”
“Oh, it’s fine. The measurements aren’tthatexact. Just don’t go at it that hard until it’s all wet.”
Haisley’s ears went scarlet as she heard her words and there was a moment of absolute silence because Tristan forgot how to stir altogether.
The moment was saved by a nasally wheeze—Tristan wasn’t sure whose—and Haisley burst out laughing just as Tristan gave in to the whoop of laughter bubbling up from his chest.
“I am so sorry,” Haisley said, wiping her eyes with her apron. “I have not talked to anyone—anyone real—in three days, and apparently that’s taken its toll on my personal editor.”
“What were you planning to do over Christmas?” Tristan asked, when they had subsided to amused chuckles and blushing sideways glances. “Before we rented the chalet, I mean.”
“Oh, I would have been here all by myself still,” Haisley said, showing Tristan how to shape the cookies on parchment paper with the back of a fork. “Just not hiding in my room.”
“I’m sorry we spoiled that for you,” Tristan said. She was standing near him, and her ears were still very pink. Little curls of her dark hair caught the light like tinsel.
“Oh, you didn’t spoil it,” Haisley said too quickly, looking up as if she’d just realized how close they were. “I mean, you kind of did, but, okay, no, you’re right. You did spoil it. But I’m a grown-up, and I shouldn’t have tried to drive you away with silly pranks. I’m above that, or ought to be.”
Tristan put the tray in the oven at Haisley’s direction, and set the timer. “You’ll want to take them out before they look completely done. They cook a little bit longer after you take them out, and you want to make sure they are still chewy andmoist.”
They both took a beat and then giggled like teenagers.
“I never realized that cooking was such a minefield of innuendo,” Tristan said, gathering up the dishes and carrying them to the sink.
“It isn’t, usually!” Haisley protested, following him with a few stray measuring cups. “I swear, I don’t blush half this much with Dorothy!”
