Sprinkled with Love

Her eyes widened as though she was surprised that he was trying to back out. “You’ve already changed your mind about the Bake-Off?”

“No. I’m going to do it. I just—well, you didn’t seem happy about it when I mentioned us working together on it to Mrs. Monroe.”

“I told you not to worry about it.” Jillian busied herself by putting away the groceries.

“What was it? Why did my speaking with Mrs. Monroe bother you?”

“It wasn’t you talking to her that bothered me. I…I just didn’t want her to think I was doing something wrong by helping you with the Bake-Off.”

He breathed his first easy breath. “That’s what you were worried about?”

She nodded.

“Then don’t worry. When I was out and about earlier today, I ran into Carol Bingley. She told me all of the bachelors had solicited help in one manner or another.” If that was all that bothered her about this arrangement, then maybe they could keep going.

“Oh.” She didn’t seem that surprised or relieved. “That’s good to hear.”

“But if you’re still uncomfortable, you can back out. I’d understand.”

She shook her head. “Stay. We have some cookies to bake.”

And so Avery found the recipe in the cookbook and Jillian gathered the ingredients. Her kitchen was a lot smaller than his and thus a lot cozier. They nearly collided a few times.

“A lot of recipes call for two bowls. I usually don’t do it that way, especially for cookies.” Jillian took a seat on the other side of the bar from him. “I usually start with the butter. And since you’ve switched up the recipe, I wondered if you’d like to try something else.”

Since he didn’t have a clue what he was doing, what was one more change to the recipe? “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“I thought we could brown the butter?”

His nose instinctively retracted. “Why would we do that?”

She smiled at him. “It will caramelize it. You do like caramel, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Just show me what to do.”

She walked him through the process. It certainly seemed easy enough. He made notes on a slip of paper so he could repeat the process. Once the butter turned an amber shade, Jillian explained how to cool it in a cold-water bath.

Jillian continued to instruct him on what to do and when. So far so good. After the eggs and vanilla were mixed, it was time for the flour. Avery dumped a full cup in with the mixer on medium speed. Instantly, there was a white cloud of flour.

“Stop the mixer!” Jillian waved her hands and jumped off the stool.

“Oops! I guess I wasn’t supposed to do that,” he said, inspecting the mess he’d made.

Jillian glanced down at her flour-covered clothes and then her gaze moved to him. He looked down to find that he was wearing a layer of flour too. He wasn’t sure how angry Jillian was with him. The flour was not only on them but also the counter, the cookbooks, and the floor. It was everywhere.

The longer she remained quiet, the more worried he became. He was in so far over his head with this whole baking thing. And this proved it.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’ll clean it up.”

Suddenly she burst out laughing. It wasn’t a small, polite giggle. This was a full-on belly laugh. Her eyes grew shiny with happy tears. And it was contagious. He couldn’t help but laugh too. He had no idea why they were laughing, but it did feel good.

Jillian had a warm laugh that put him at ease. He couldn’t help but think she needed to laugh more. Her face was full of color and her eyes sparkled with merriment.

It was in that moment he realized how much he missed hearing her laughter around his house. Since she’d quit working for him, the house seemed so much quieter and a lot emptier. This Bake-Off was turning into an eye-opening experience. Maybe this freedom thing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Jillian brushed off her sweater and then turned to him. “Here, let me help you.”

She started to brush off his chest. Her hands running over his body made him think of what it would be like to pull her close and taste her berry lips. His gaze dipped to her mouth and her plump lower lip. She definitely had a mouth that was begging to be kissed.