Page 32 of A Very Merry Mistake

“Yeah. You remembered.”

“Of course,” he says over his shoulder. “Come closer. You can’t learn from there. I like to use the hands-on approach.”

I gulp and wish his hands were on me but quickly push those thoughts away. I stand close to him, and our arms brush together.

He glances over at me. “I’m gonna teach you how to make scrambled eggs. There’s a trick to it. Low heat, lots of butter, and you have to remove it from the flame at the perfect time.”

He gives me the spatula and lifts the skillet to ensure the fire is where he wants it. After setting the pan down, he slaps a big slab of butter inside.

I nod, watching it turn into a puddle in the pan.

“When it bubbles in the middle, that’s how we know it’s ready for the eggs.”

Jake cracks four eggs into a bowl with one hand. Then he tosses the shells in the garbage. “Want to mix it?”

“Sure.” He gives me a fork, and I stir the yolk with the whites.

“Now pour it in,” he instructs.

As I do, it coats the bottom, and he turns off the heat. Then he hands me the spatula.

“Almost there. Don’t let it stick on the bottom.”

I do as he says, following his instructions. The eggs are fluffy as I mix them.

“Oh, almost forgot.” He pulls two slices of American cheese from the fridge and rips them into fours before setting them on top.

“Mix that in. It’s gonna taste so damn good.”

The cheese doesn’t completely melt, so Jake turns the burner back on, giving it just a little more heat. Within a minute, it’s melted and mixed together. He pulls two paper plates from the cabinet, and I look down at them.

“I’m not doin’ dishes, are you?”

I shake my head. “No, thanks.”

Carefully, I grab the handle and divide the eggs into equal parts. I clear the pan and then set it on the stove.

“Would you like some Texas toast?” he asks.

I give him a puzzled look. “Is it oversized?”

“Huh?” He pulls the loaf from the bread box on his counter.

“You know, because everything is bigger here?”

A roar of laughter escapes him. “It’s the same size as a regular slice of bread, just thicker.”

I look at it. “Sure, I’ll have one.”

“Great.” He heats the skillet again, and when it’s sizzling hot, he tosses two pieces of bread into the bottom. After thirty seconds, with his bare hands, he flips the toast. It looks perfectly cooked and smells so delicious. Once it’s finished, he puts them on our plates before grabbing us two forks.

“Let’s eat,” he says, turning and finding the stool closest to him. I walk around to the other side of the breakfast nook and sit. Following Jake’s lead, I scoop the cheesy scrambled eggs onto the slice of bread and fold it in half. Then I take a large bite. I can’t help the moan that escapes me. It might be the best egg sandwich I’ve ever eaten in my life.

Jake notices and gives me a grin. “Good, huh?”

“Excellent. I think this may be my new favorite meal.”

“If you’re staying until the first week of January, I’ve got a repertoire of easy recipes I can teach you. They take little to no skills and taste good.”

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