this baking experience over with and move on with my day, preferably very far away from Ethan and Carol. My emotions seemed to veer off track whenever they came around.
I clapped my hands. “I’m ready. What should I make?”
Ethan studied me. His arms were folded across his chest and he was leaning against the countertop with his legs extended. A smile played on his lips that drew my attention up to his mouth. For a moment, a very slight moment, I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. And then reality slapped me in the face, and I turned so my back was to him while I gathered together what little self-control I had.
“What do you like? Bread? Cookies? Rolls?” Ethan’s voice grew louder, and I could see from the corner of my eye that he was approaching me.
Needing something to do other than think about where he was and if he was going to touch me, I moved to open the cupboards as if I were looking for inspiration.
“I like cookies,” I said softly as I ran through the list he’d sounded off.
“Cookies are good.” He was standing behind me. I felt tiny in his presence. He wouldn’t even need to move to the side to see around me. All he had to do was stand there and he could see over me.
“Cookies it is.” I tapped my chin. “Now, what kind?”
“What’s your favorite?”
I pursed my lips. I knew the fight over which cookie was best was as old as time, and I wasn’t sure what Ethan would say if I told him what I personally liked. Then, realizing that I was being stupid, I said, “Oatmeal raisin.”
When he didn’t respond, I glanced over my shoulder to see him staring down at me. His eyebrows were raised, and I couldn’t quite read his expression. Was he officially disgusted by me? How did I fix this?
“Really?” he asked.
I nodded. There was no way I was going to be able to rewind time and take it back, so I might as well lean into my answer. “I love how soft they are, and the texture…” My mouth started to water at the thought.
“All right. Oatmeal raisin it is.” He leaned forward, his chest brushing my shoulder. My entire body tensed until he pulled back with a package of raisins in his hand.
“Let’s get started then,” he said as he turned around and set the container down on the counter.
I pulled up a recipe on my phone and read out the ingredients to Ethan as he moved around the kitchen and grabbed what I called off. Soon, everything was laid out in a line on the counter.
Just as Ethan grabbed the mixer to bring it to where we were working, Carol emerged from her office. She was holding a binder to her chest and smiled at us as she walked by. I wondered what she was doing, but she was gone before I could ask.
I made a mental note to ask Ethan what my interaction with her had been about. I doubted he knew, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“Ready?” Ethan asked. I turned to see him waving a measuring cup in my face.
Nervousness exploded in my stomach, but I attempted to push it down. After all, it was just cookies. What could be complicated about them?
I took the measuring cup and moved to stand next to him. “All right. You read the instructions and I’ll mix the ingredients.”
Ethan sucked in his breath. I turned to see that his cheeks were puffed out as he stared down at me. “I’m not sure that’s exactly ethical,” he said after he let his breath out in a solid puff.
I gave him an annoyed look. “It’s not unethical. You’re just reading.” Then I rested my hand on my hip. “Are you telling me that recipes aren’t your preferred go-to material?”
He chuckled as he pulled up a nearby stool and sat down. “Only when I feel really dangerous do I read recipes.” He pulled open the raisins and grabbed a handful. On instinct, I swatted his hand away.
His jaw dropped, and heat flushed my cheeks when I realized what I’d done. This wasn’t my kitchen or house. If anything, he had more right to the raisins than I did. What was wrong with me?
“I’m so sorry,” I stammered.
Ethan’s shocked expression morphed to a smile as he slid off the stool and reached into the jar of flour. “Oh, it’s on now,” he