“Here.” She took a pinch and tossed it toward him, most of it landing on her sleeve. “I’ll give you my share. You need it in your line of work.”
“Real funny.” He finally formed the dough into a ball, wrapped it in plastic, and tucked it in the fridge. “We’ll let it chill while we make the pie filling. That way it’ll be easier to roll out.”
“Sounds good. So what next?”
“The pie filling.” He picked up one of her bags of berries. “You did a good job hulling and slicing them.”
“Thank you. This guy up at the feedstore gave me some tips.” She tossed her hair back, playing up the compliment.
Is she flirting?“Must’ve been a really great guy,” he teased,hoping that she was. When she didn’t follow up with anything else, he got back to business. “You know, there’s a little hack you can try at home too. You can use a straw. Place it at the bottom of the strawberry, then push it straight up through the middle. It will take out that whole core and the hull all at once.”
They measured all the dry ingredients, then cooked down the berries on the stove, until they were finally ready to mix everything together.
“There are a lot of strawberries to stir. I might need an oar.” She stirred and stirred. “You didn’t warn me this would be aerobic.”
“You look like you’ll be able to keep up.” He reached past her to preheat the oven to 350, then got the dough out of the refrigerator.
They rolled out the dough, making a mess with the flour on the island, but the crust turned out perfect.
“Looks great,” Adam said.
She beamed, and that natural smile made him smile too.
“I like to bake my pie crust about fifteen minutes before filling it so it stays crispy and flaky, but you don’t have to,” he said. “What would you like to do?”
“Let’s do it your way.”
“I’ve lived my whole life to hear a woman say that.” He laughed. “Okay, the oven is preheated. Just butter the underneath side of this pan. It’s a little smaller, so you can set it inside the pie plate and it’ll keep the crust from bubbling up.”
“You really do know all the tricks.”
I’d like to show you a few.His thoughts betrayed him.Stop. No time for that. Stay focused on baking. One goal this year.
He set the timer for fifteen minutes. “We can cut the otherdough round into strips so we can make lattice on top of the pie. It looks so impressive. No one will ever believe this was your first time baking.”
“Ican’t believe it. If it tastes even half as good as it looks, I’ll be thrilled.”
“Even the likes ofyoucan’t ruin this pie.”
“Ha!” She grabbed for the dish towel, laughing, but he grabbed the other end, and for a split second, there was a moment when he wanted to tug that towel and her right into his arms.
She picked up a tiny wad of dough, balled it up, and threw it at him, only the throw went wild.
She threw just like a girl, way too high, but instinct kicked in and he leaped into the air to catch it. He landed and the fresh stitches at his hip pulled, causing him to groan like a bloated cow.
“Your injury.” She pointed just above his waistband. “It’s bleeding through the gauze.”
He looked, then tugged his shirt straight. “Just a little. It’ll be fine. There are a lot of stitches holding it together.”
“It looks like it hurts.”
“I got hung up. It happens in this sport. That bull outweighed me by more than ten times. I guess that is sort of a fight. Wish I could say,You should see the other guy,but the truth of it is, that bull went home without a scratch. I won the gold buckle for riding him.”
“The gold buckle. I’m guessing that’s the best?”
“Yes. First place, and the most points for that night despite the ending.”
“I’m not sure I callthatwinning.” She pointed at him with concern in her green eyes.
