Playing For Her Heart - Megan Erickson Page 0,10

More women were needed in STEM occupations. Hell, at Gamers, the magazine he owned, Marley was only one of three women out of fifty employees. It wasn’t that Grant didn’t want to hire them, it was that he didn’t have many applicants.

He sniffed the air. She’d left the basement door open and the sweet smell had begun to drift down the stairs. He walked slowly, wiping down his face and upper body with a towel he hooked onto the arm bar. “What’d you make?”

“Lavender shortbread cookies with a lemon glaze.”

“Damn.” He reached for his bottle in the treadmill’s cup holder and squirted water in his mouth. “Sounds amazing.”

Sydney was blond, like him, with big blue eyes. She had her mother’s face, the small mouth and nose, deep-set eyes. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she wore her red gingham apron, which was pretty much her Saturday look, since she spent most of it in the kitchen. He encouraged her to spend time with friends but she was diligent, his girl. A hard worker. Like father, like daughter.

Her brows drew together when she frowned. “I’m not sure if the glaze is the right consistency. And I made the cookies two different thicknesses, a quarter inch and half inch.”

She always did this, talked at him but didn’t really expect him to answer. Which was a good thing because he knew next to nothing about baking. He could make a mean burrito, though.

“I want you to tell me which you think baked up the best. And if you like the glaze.” She was already walking away and called over her shoulder. “But take a shower first, because you stink.”

He shook his head. Sydney was such an old soul, practically mothering him. Since she’d grown up with an incredibly distant mother, Sydney assumed the role for herself. Grant was only one person and maybe too much of a kid at heart.

After all, he still dressed up and got laid in costume. If that didn’t say sixteen-year-old nerd, he didn’t know what did.

He walked past the sweet-smelling kitchen where Sydney puttered around and headed right to his bathroom, dropping his shorts and toeing off his shoes before stepping into the shower and turning on the spray.

His legs felt a little like jelly, but the hot water soothed his muscles.

Grant had been a freshman in college when a girl he’d slept with came to him with a tear-streaked face and a positive pregnancy test. She wanted to give the baby up for adoption, but Grant had said that he’d take her. His parents helped and even at the toughest of times, he didn’t regret his decision. Sydney’s mother, Avery, saw her a couple of times a year, but Avery now had a new husband on the opposite coast of the US. Her relationship with Sydney was strained and neither seemed to have the urge to change it.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. The smell of the cookies was strong now, and Grant smiled. Life was good. Maybe in time, he could forget about the princess. Time healed everything right?

In his bedroom, he pulled on a pair of old sweats, and trotted out to get his treats.

…

Chloe stirred the sausage tortilla soup in her brand-new blue Le Creuset pot. Even at seventy percent off, the pot had been a total splurge, but she figured she deserved it. Her small apartment was furnished, and the only real money she spent on clothes was for cosplay. So since she’d just finished up a big job, she’d bought what she really wanted.

Cooking was like therapy for her. The act of taking unrelated ingredients and molding them, mixing them into something delicious, was like a balm to her soul. There was no pressure. No one or nothing to let down. She cooked for herself so if she screwed something up, no one knew but her.

She didn’t have to talk to anyone. Well, she did talk to her ingredients. And her dishes. She’d already told her pot that she loved it. But they didn’t talk back, which was the best part about them.

The sausage tortilla soup was a new recipe she’d seen on Pinterest. Her profile on that site was an odd amalgamation of recipes, video-game cheats, and cosplay costume ideas. That fit her and her mind, which was a complete hodgepodge of information.

She stirred the soup one last time and then propped her spoon on her cat-shaped spoon rest. It had