Page 44 of The Scent of Happiness

“You’re going to sell these soaps, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you cut them?”

“I want you to. It’s part of the process.” Brooke was already unboxing the baby soap. She peeled away the silicone mold liner and placed the loaf on the cutting board, lining it up with the one-inch cutting marks she’d made. She handed him the heavy-duty bench scraper she’d gotten at a restaurant supply outlet. “This is your guide. This is your knife. Go for it.”

“That’s it?” He tilted his head with a skeptical look. “That’s my instruction?”

“For once in your life, you’re going to learn by doing.” She crossed her arms, leaned on the counter, and waited.

Theo gripped the knife and pushed it into the loaf of soap with more force than he needed to, making the board wobble. “It’s soft. I was expecting hard soap.”

“It hardens as it cures,” Brooke told him. “All that soap in the garage is shedding water and firming up. It takes six weeks.”

“I see.” Theo straightened the board and made another cut with a look of serious concentration. He finished the baby soap as well as the Rebel Boss soap while Brooke watched, fascinated by the way his eyebrows came together and his mouth formed a determined line.

“Do I pass the test?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah.” Brooke shook herself out of her stupor. She lifted one of the purple bars and breathed it in. It was perfect. She set it back down again. “Now we start a new batch. We’re not dressed for it, but we’ll make do. You’ll want to get rid of that suitcoat.”

“Sure.” He took off his coat and draped it on one of her dining chairs.

“And your tie.”

“No problem.” He pulled on the knot and unwound the fabric from his neck.

A little zing traveled down her spine, but Brooke ignored the part of her brain that was thrilled about a handsome man undressing in her kitchen. She had soap to make. She also had a point to make. She couldn’t let herself forget that she was trying to prove something here.

Theo unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Brooke asked.

“Rolling up my sleeves.”

“Don’t do that. You need to keep your arms covered.” She opened the drawer nearest the sink and got out gloves and goggles. “You also need to protect your hands and your eyes.”

“You said it was safe.”

“It is, if you follow some basic precautions.” Brooke found an elastic and tied her hair back, then took off her cardigan and tossed it on a chair. Under it, she was wearing a button-up blouse and dress pants, which was fine for making one small batch.

She handed Theo a pair of disposable gloves and shoved on a pair herself. She gave him her old goggles, the ones that didn’t quite fit over her glasses, and put on her bigger ones.

If she’d been worried about another kiss from Theo, she could forget about it now. The safety gear was the best man repellent around.

She got out her scale, bowls, spatulas, stick blender, and smallest soap mold. She thumbed through her journal, flipping back and forth until she found the most basic recipe she knew—eighty percent olive oil, twenty percent coconut oil. No need to add the more exotic oils or confuse Theo with the lye calculator. This recipe was foolproof and easy.

A classic recipe called for classical music. She opened her playlist and put on Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons.

“Our first step is to make a sodium hydroxide solution.” She found her keys in the bottom of her bag and headed out to the garage with Theo at her heels. Once inside, she slapped a plastic bowl onto the scale and pointed to the container of lye. “Please measure out five ounces of this very hazardous chemical.”

Theo hovered in the doorway. “I never actually called it that.”

Brooke scoffed. “Lawyer.”

“I’m careful with my words. I know what I said and didn’t say.”

Brooke popped a hand on her hip. “You’d better close the door. One of the neighbors might tell Officer Douche what we’re storing in here.”

Theo came fully into the room, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you just call him—”

“Oh God.” Brooke’s hand flew to her mouth, bringing the weird rubber tire scent of the gloves to her nose. She lowered her hand. “I did, didn’t I? I was so afraid to say his name! I was afraid it would come out wrong.”