Dreaming of His Snowed In Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,38
egg.
“Remember. Gentle.” She handed him the egg.
He took it in his hand, and she helped him adjust the egg so that he didn’t crack on the narrow end but around the thick middle.
“Gentle,” she reminded him one last time.
His first crack was so gentle it didn’t even crack the egg.
He had listened. Good.
“I think you can do it a little bit harder. Just a little.”
The pinched look of concentration on Garrett’s face was adorable, and she wished she had her phone so she could take a picture. He was so cute sitting only in his pull-up on the counter, the egg in his hand, and every molecule of his body focusing on cracking the egg.
The second crack was too hard.
The egg split, and all the insides fell out, dripping down the door of the cupboard, sliding to the bottom, and plopping onto the floor.
“That might have been a bit too hard.” She looked at the puddle on the floor. “But somehow you did it without breaking the yolk. That took talent.”
There was a snort behind her, but she didn’t turn around to look at West. This was her mess to clean up.
“We need a dog,” she said to no one in particular.
“I think that is one thing we definitely don’t need.” West’s voice held humor. “All I see is just that much more mess to clean up.”
“A dog would lick this off the floor, and that would be a help right now.” She put a hand on Garrett’s leg. “Don’t move. I don’t want you to fall off.”
She grabbed a paper towel and another bag and cleaned the egg off the floor.
This time when she handed the egg to Garrett, he cracked a little less hard, and she was able to help him get his thumbs in and pull the egg apart.
“Great job, kiddo.” He grinned at her praise. “I don’t see any shells in it. You can go ahead and take that bowl and pour it into this one.” She helped him pour his egg in with the egg and milk that Warren had already added.
Things went well from there, and they had the pancakes mixed up and on the griddle in no time.
After she’d done two or three pancakes, Warren had figured it out, and she kept an eye on him standing proud beside the stove, spatula in hand, watching for the bubbles to pop so he could flip it, while she helped Garrett set the table, carrying Trevor on her hip.
West had taken Gabriella back from Hazel, and Hazel did the silverware while Garrett did the plates and cups.
“Make sure they’re straight. The plates and silverware are functional, but we also want them to look pretty. It’s nicer to sit at a pretty table than it is at one that’s just slapped together.”
Hazel nodded solemnly, but Garrett looked like he didn’t have a clue of what she was saying. She assumed that must be the male-female difference and kind of grinned to herself. Even if he didn’t understand, it didn’t hurt him to learn.
She felt a tug at her elbow and turned to see West, looking down at her, serious.
“I’d like to talk to you later.”
“Of course.”
His expression held no smile, which for West wasn’t exactly a shock, but he looked so serious a wave of fear went through her. Had something happened?
By the time breakfast was over, or more accurately, according to the clock anyway, lunch, it was time to put Trevor and Garrett down for their naps.
Although she was fairly certain the weather report was wrong, she still would feel more comfortable weathering “the storm of the century” in her snug little room behind the hardware store than on the road somewhere between here and there.
West held Gabriella and was feeding her a bottle when Poppy came back from putting the boys down for their naps.
Warren and Hazel were in the room, and it looked to Poppy like Warren was trying his hardest to convince Hazel to play some kind of truck game with him. She silently wished him good luck, and in her heart, she hoped that Hazel gave in.
West stood in the doorway to the kitchen, the baby in his hand, holding the bottle with his other, and honestly, her heart stopped and jumped into her throat as she saw him there.
How could a man who looked so intimidating, so strong, so unapproachable and tenebrous, look the exact opposite with a baby in his arms?
He wasn’t smiling. She would term his expression more