I haven’t had more than a few stolen moments with her since that night. As she leaves each night, I can’t help pushing her against the wall and tasting her. We are torturing ourselves with heated kisses and touching that is far from appropriate with my son just around the corner asleep on the couch. But I have thrown all caution to the wind with Poppy, which is not like me.
“Okay, Kade and Nash, let’s start putting our ingredients in,” Mrs. B says. “Daddy and Poppy will help you measure, and then you can pour them in and do all the mixing.” Watching the boys’ eyes light up just reminds me how lucky we are to have her next door.
Mrs. B’s cellphone starts ringing, and she steps out of the room to go answer it, and it’s time to get the boys revved up.
“We’ve got this, Kade, champion cookies coming up, right?” Poppy lifts up her hand, and they high-five. She doesn’t understand how much it means to me that she doesn’t seem to mind how he is a lot of hard work. Nash is my quiet considerate soul, where Kade is my tornado but with the biggest heart.
“Not a chance, hey, Nash? We are going to make the best cookies ever, right, buddy?” Holding my fist out, we fist-bump, and he puffs out his chest with confidence.
“Not when I’ve got Perfect Poppy on my team. She always makes everything better, so there is no way you will beat us.”Kade stands up on his chair, yelling loud enough I think all the houses around us will hear him. And I can’t help but laugh at the title of Perfect Poppy, because I tend to agree with him.
Before I can say a word, Poppy whispers in his ear, and I can see she is already redirecting his energy into the task at hand. Now that takes talent, because some days even I struggle to do that.
“I need a name Nash, am I Perfect Daddy?” I’m trying to make sure that Nash doesn’t think he lucked out being on my team. Because let’s face it, Poppy is way cooler than their dad will ever be in their eyes.
I can see him thinking hard, and I’m scared of what he will come up with, so I start throwing ideas out there.
“What about Mega Dad, or I know, Dad the Magnificent. Oh, hang on, I’ve got it: The Man of Steel: Super Dad.” I flex my muscles, and everyone in the kitchen breaks out in laughter.
“No, silly, they don’t start with the same letter like Perfect Poppy.” She looks across at me, and her smile is full of mischief.
“Fine. I’ve got it. How about Daddy the Devil.” And I’m not even looking at either of the boys now. Instead, I hone in on Poppy, and the reaction I was hoping for is instant. A faint blush pinks up her cheeks as she drops her face slightly, but I can still see the cheeky smile on her.
“But the devil is a naughty man, and you’re not naughty, Daddy,” Nash says to me, so matter of fact.
“You’re right, Nash,” Poppy agrees. “How about we go with Dashing Daddy, because he always looks so dashing when he is dressed for work. Plus, Daddy should stay away from where the devil lives because it’s very hot down there, isn’t it, Landon?”
“Yes, you must be careful around Mr. Naughty Devil, because you never know what can happen when you play with fire. Things can heat up very quickly.” I glare at her, and she just smirks and helps Kade with his next cup of flour.
“Fire can burn you, Daddy, can’t it, Poppy. Poppy is a firefighter, so she told us to always be careful of hot flames,” Nash comments so innocently.
“Yes, Poppy is correct. Never play with fire.” My cock is hardening in my jeans, and I know I need to stop all this innuendo, otherwise I won’t be able to move away from this counter without embarrassing myself in front of Mrs. B. “Now let’s put the sugar in next because I love a good, sweet cookie.” It was out of my mouth before I thought about it, causing Poppy to nearly choke on the other side of the counter.
“I need a glass of cold water, anyone else need one?” The boys are too focused on what they are doing, but Poppy’s hand shoots into the air, signaling for one as she gets over her choking on the dirty thought we both jumped to, of me eating out her sweet cookie.
Who would have thought that making cookies with the kids could be so arousing. Where is that cold water?
Mrs. B is standing in front of four plates with the letters A to D on them so she can taste test the best cookie without knowing who the baker is. I say that with my tongue in my cheek because it’s not hard to pick which are Nash and Kade’s cookies. The shape of them is not neat and they are random sizes, whereas mine are all the same size and as near a perfect circle as I could get them, while Poppy’s are similar to mine.
There is no way either of us is going to win, and I pray Mrs. B comes up with a tie on the boys’ cookies, because I do not want to deal with the fallout of who won and who lost. I know that’s not what life is like, but seriously, I’m happy with not rocking the boat at the moment.
The boys are both bouncing on their feet and so close to the plates, talking at the same time, telling Mrs. B all the good things about their cookies. She is playing the part so perfectly and is bringing them along for the ride.
“Okay, I have made my decision. I thank all the bakers for their efforts today. Now in fourth place with a very sweet cookie is plate D.” And she looks straight at me, knowing full well it’s mine, but I just hope to God we aren’t talking about the same sweet cookies.
“Darn, that’s mine. So maybe I’m not the best cookie maker after all.” I accept my prize which is chocolate in the shape of a Santa face made by Mrs. B.
“It was a very close competition, but in a respectable third spot is plate B who had a nice shape, very consistent, and an enjoyable taste.” The boys cheer because they realize they are both still in the running for first prize.
“Looks like I’m living up to my name of being consistent in everything I do.” Poppy steps forward and kisses her mom on the cheek as she collects her Santa face.
“Now, the last two were so hard to choose from. This one had the perfect amount of chocolate chips in it, but the other one’s biscuit melted in my mouth. They both look superb and are baked perfectly. Hmmm.” She pauses, placing her finger on her chin, looking from plate to plate. “My final decision, I declare it to be a tie, because both cookies were the best ones I’ve ever tasted, besides mine, of course.” She giggles, and the boys jump around screaming, “I win, I win.”
I look around the room as Mrs. B, Poppy, and the boys embrace in a group hug, celebrating their achievement. These last two years have been hard, but this last ten days it’s like there has been a shift in our world. The boys have smiled and laughed more, and so have I. Charlene has been giving me hell at the bar each night. She’s not stupid and probably knows me better thananyone besides my best friend, Adrian, who I’m glad is away. Otherwise, the two of them carrying on about Poppy would be painful to endure.
Poppy lines the boys up for photos with their prize-winning cookies, so I take the opportunity to talk to Mrs. B on her own.
“Are we all set for Wednesday night?” We stand shoulder to shoulder as we look on the three of them in fits of giggles doing poses for the camera.
