Fake It Till You Bake It(74)

“Ah, there’s the control freak.”

“You want to bake or insult me?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Both?”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“My dazzling, sparkling wit?”

“Yeah, something like that. Or maybe it’s the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and stand up for what you believe in, no matter what.”

The smile that bloomed across her face made his heart stutter. “Really?”

He drew her closer. He no longer had to resist the temptation to touch her whenever he wanted. “Yeah, really. You’re brave and you make me laugh.”

She buried her face into his chest. “You mean cry?”

“Hey, I’m trying to give you a compliment. Take it.” He searched her eyes until he found what he was looking for—belief in what he was telling her.

She nodded. “Okay. Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Thanks. But please understand I’ll take back every word I said if you burn down my kitchen.”

Jada froze. “You’re the worst.”

“You meant the best, I know. It was a slip of the tongue. It happens to the best of us.” He dodged her playful shove and retrieved eggs and milk from the refrigerator. He jerked his chin toward the counter behind her. “Flour and sugar are over there.”

He walked her through the process. She concentrated fiercely, matching him step by step. The intense look on her face was sexy as hell. They only stopped twice—okay, three times—for long, lingering kisses and for him to slide his hand under her shirt to feel that soft skin he loved to caress.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Donovan said as he slid the cupcake pans into the oven. He dropped the towel on the countertop. “What are you doing?”

She was poring over her phone, not paying him any attention. “Setting my phone alarm.”

Donovan blinked. “Why? I already set the oven timer.”

She looked up. “I’m not taking any chances. You know what’s better than one alarm? Two alarms. And you know what’s better than two alarms? Three.” She took a few steps to the microwave and set its timer. “It’s going to be great when my batch turns out better than yours.”

Donovan crossed his arms. “Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She was so busy smirking at him, she never saw the flour headed her way. He landed a perfect strike. The ingredient hit her square in the chest right over the San Diego Knights logo. She gasped. “Donovan!”

He laughed, throwing his head back. Big mistake. Just as his head returned to its natural upright position, clumps of flour landed in his mouth. He sputtered and turned to face the counter, hacking.

Jada laid a hand on his back. “Donovan, are you okay?”

Sugar smacked her on the cheek. She gasped. “Oh, it’s on now.”

Donovan hurried around the island and crouched. If his friends and family could see him now, their jaws would permanently detach from their faces. This was not like him. But he wanted it to be.

What had come over him? Jada. It was all Jada.

He never relaxed. There was always another mountain to climb, another goal to reach for that elusive feeling of security, a feeling that had been all too rare as a kid, but here tonight with Jada, his mind wasn’t racing with thoughts of what was next, of how to make the shop or any of his other ventures more successful. He was being silly with the woman who’d invaded so many of his thoughts over the past few weeks and he’d rather be nowhere else.

Jada. It was all Jada.

Now he had a food fight to win.

The ingredients they’d been using were right above him. All he had to do was reach up and grab them. What was left? Chocolate chips, a couple eggs, sprinkles. Where was Jada? All he could hear was his own ragged breathing.

“Remember to keep my hair out of this, buddy,” she warned. Her voice came from the other side of the island. She was over by the refrigerator.

He laughed. “I grew up with a Black mother and two sisters. I would never dream of committing such heresy. But the rest of you? Yeah, it’s on.” But he had to be stealthy and methodical about his attack. Make sure he attacked at the exact right time. He held his position, not moving a muscle, straining to hear if she moved.

“Donovan, Donovan, come out to play. You started this.”

That’s right. He had. He leapt and grabbed a handful of sprinkles in one smooth action. He launched his missile and watched them cascade down to the ground in a sad, sad spiral, never reaching their target. Jada grabbed some chocolate chips and threw them at him. Donovan sent sugar flying her way, then snuck up behind her when she turned away to keep the white stuff from hitting her in the face. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She yelped, then settled against his chest, covering his hands with hers.

“I think that means I won,” he said.

She harrumphed. “Whatever, dude.”

“Never change, Jada. Never change.” Donovan laughed as he surveyed the damage. Flour, sprinkles, and sugar decorated the floors and countertops in the usually immaculate space. “Wow. We made a mess.” He had no regrets.

“We? That was all you, sir. I got the best shot in though.” Her sparkling laughter filled the room and his spirit.

“Feel better?” he asked, nuzzling the side of her neck. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. Of being with her. The lightness she had brought to his life could not be overstated. He hadn’t even realized something was missing until she came roaring into his world, insulting him at every turn. She smelled so damn good, even through the flour and sugar. Like sunshine and flowers. He was going to be an addict in no time.