Fake It Till You Bake It(23)

“Hey, it’s okay.” Donovan’s hand landed on her shoulder, sending a jolt of sensation through her. She turned. He nodded, his face and voice equally calm. “Don’t worry. It’s just egg.”

“I didn’t want to mess up this beautiful kitchen.” She didn’t want to see the same disappointed look on his face she’d seen so often on her parents’ faces every time she screwed something up.

He squeezed her shoulder, his gaze a mesmerizing combination of concern and sympathy. “We all start somewhere. Don’t worry. We have a refrigerator full of eggs and a supply closet full of cleaning supplies. I can handle any mess you make. But yes, please remember the eggs go in the bowl.”

His deadpan delivery surprised a snort of laughter out of her. They shared a grin. “When you put it that way.” As her heart slowed to a more normal rate, Jada turned back to the counter. A few swipes and the mess was gone. She exhaled. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

A brief smile touched his lips. “Out of our staples, peanut butter chocolate. It’s like a Reese’s but a million times better. My mother made them for my birthday whenever she could.”

“Whenever she could?”

His shoulders tensed. “Money was tight some years. When it was, cupcakes were the last thing on her mind, but those years when we were okay … those were the best.” He glanced at her. “Stop procrastinating.”

“Okay, fine.” She took a deep breath and followed his directions. Or at least, she tried to. Flour was a slippery sucker and liked to create a plume, but she kept going, even if she did spend more of her time cleaning up spills than doing anything that could reasonably be called baking. And there was the unfortunate moment when she added four cups of sugar instead of two and had to start over for the third time. Through it all, Donovan was patient. Mostly. That crease in his forehead never disappeared, but he didn’t yell at least, so she took it as a win.

“Time for the mixer.” He gestured toward the massive shiny stainless steel piece of equipment on the opposite counter.

Jada swallowed. The machine was intimidating. Forget sugarplums. Visions of ingredients flying across the immaculate kitchen if she screwed up the timing or whatever settings were on the mixer danced in her head. The nerves she’d battled back returned with a vengeance.

“Push this button.” Donovan showed her what to do. She mimicked his movements precisely, holding her breath. She released the button. Miracle of miracles, disaster didn’t strike. The ingredients whirled and stayed in the bowl. She let out a little squeal and tried to turn it into a more dignified cough when Donovan side-eyed her, but then something got caught in her throat. She ended up doubled over, hacking up a lung.

He whacked her on the back. “Are you okay?”

She stumbled forward. Too bad she couldn’t stumble away from her embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. What’s next?”

He eyed her, his face impassive. Jada sighed. At least he wasn’t laughing at her.

“Time to bake.” He showed her how to scoop the mixture into the baking pans. A good fourth of the sticky, liquidy mixture ended up on the counter, and the part that did end up in the baking pan cutouts looked nothing like Donovan’s evenly spread-out version. But she did it. She just had to accept the mess.

The heavenly scent of vanilla rent the air. Her stomach called out for a cupcake. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to have about ten cavities when her time at Sugar Blitz was done.

“How long?” she asked.

“Twenty minutes.” He stepped closer, bringing his heat and woodsy, tempting scent with him. She ordered her feet to not move.

“What?”

“You have some flour on your—” He gestured toward her face.

Oh, great. This was the third time she’d been in Donovan’s presence, and the second time she ended up with something on her face. Fantastic percentage. She swiped at her nose. “Better?”

His lips crooked. “No, not really.” The soft pad of his thumb stroked across her cheek. Air lodged in Jada’s throat. He was close. The heat from his body rolled over her, creating a cocoon of delicious warmth she wanted to snuggle up into. “There. Got it.”

Her lips parted, air escaping in an unsteady rhythm as she tracked the movement of his thumb with greedy eyes. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together like he was savoring the touch of her skin, but perhaps she was projecting. He hadn’t stepped away, however. Nor had he taken his eyes away from hers. Her gaze slipped lower. His lips, too, had parted. The moment built … lingered. His eyes darkened with awareness. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

“There’s a guy at the front insisting on speaking to the manager. I think he’s a fan, and he’s not taking no for an answer.”

Jada whirled. Ella stood there, eyes darting between the two of them.

Donovan recovered first. “And we can’t afford to say no.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and hurried toward the door. He stopped. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.” She needed as much alone time as possible to recover. Her breath was still coming hard and fast, her pulse racing. What was that? Had they almost…? No.

The air rushed out of her lungs in relief when he exited with Ella close on his heels. Okay, time to restore her equilibrium. What had they been doing before they … looked at each other? She turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings. Oh, right. They were in a kitchen baking cupcakes. Her gaze landed on the pans they’d poured the mixture into. All that was left was putting the pre-baked cupcakes into the oven. Even she could handle that.