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Someone had cooked something incredibly delicious and it sure as hell hadn t been
Haley.
When he stepped inside the kitchen and saw the spread set out before him, he lost the
ability to speak as did apparently his cousins, because all three of them just stood
there, staring in awe and wonder at all the trays of baked goods covering the counters
and table.
 How? Trevor whispered reverently as he gazed at all the baked goods tempting
them into killing each other.
 She was only in here for an hour, Jason said hollowly as he too was lost in the
wonder that was now Trevor and Zoe s kitchen.
The woman who had been able to create a buffet of desserts in less than an hour stood
in the middle of the large country kitchen, wringing a towel nervously in her hands as
she admitted,  I m sorry, but I bake when I get nervous.
Which of course meant that he was going to have to make her nervous& a lot.
Chapter 20
th
Tuesday, December 8 .
Very early in the morning&
Very. Early.
 Oh, God, just kill me, the man who d insisted on being dropped off with her a few
hours ago said from what she was starting to think of as his table since he was curled
up on it with a fresh ice pack, groaning, moaning and bitching while she was trying to
work.
 I m sure that if you just called your brother, that he would come and pick you up,
she suggested again, trying to hide her impatience at having the big baby wreck the
best part of her day, the time when she got to decide the day s menu, prep for the day
and savor the first aromas of fresh baked bread, muffins and donuts cooking before
the bakery became packed with employees and demanding customers.
Instead her normally pleasant morning was filled with a large male, who couldn t
seem to stop moaning miserably, but every single time she suggested that he either go
to the hospital or go home, he would stubbornly shake his head and tell her that they
needed to talk.
She didn t want to talk with him.
In fact, she really didn t want to look at him either, because every time she did she
felt her heart tear open a little more and wanted to cry like some pathetic teenage girl
that just realized that her first crush thought she was a joke. The comparison hit a
little too close to home and she wanted him to leave before she did something
incredibly foolish like started crying again.
They didn t need to talk.
They were good.
She d even told him that, but the large jerk refused to listen to her. Every single time
that she told him that it was fine and that she just wanted to move on and forget
what happened, he would interrupt her, start muttering something, groan, cough,
groan, cough some more and then if she was lucky he would doze off for a little bit.
Praying that luck was finally with her, she looked up and thanked whoever was
watching over her, because the annoying bastard that had taken over the best guest
table in the house was now fast asleep. Relieved, she turned around, opened the oven
and very carefully placed one of the large mini-bread pans inside. She added two more
before she carefully closed the door and set the timer. Not that she actually relied on
timers anymore when she could tell when something was done by the aroma as the
food cooked.
It was something that she d been able to do since she was a baby. She could always
tell by the scent of food as it cooked when it was done, the very second that it had
stayed in the oven too long, and wasn t up to her standards. Even though she could
easily keep track of all twelve ovens going at once by scent, she still used the timer to
make her grandfather feel better.
She also used the timer just in case she had to leave for a call or deal with a vender so
that she could make sure that the food was taken out at the precise moment when it
was absolutely perfect. Yes, she was a perfectionist when it came to her cooking and
her grandfather had lovingly teased her about it over the years, but she didn t care.
She believed that everyone was born with at least one special skill or talent that set
them apart from the rest of the world and if they were lucky enough to figure it out,
then they should embrace it. She knew how fortunate she was to have figured out her
gifts at all, never mind at such a young age. She loved cooking, loved the way it made
her feel, the way she could lose herself in it and pretend that all was right in her
world. When she was cooking it was just her, the ingredients and a formula in her
head to turn them into something decadent. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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