Page 49 of The Scent of Happiness

“Yep. Now color.” She added a spoonful of the powdered mica. “You use the stick blender for that too.”

A few seconds and the bowl of liquid went from cream to honey. “What about the fragrance?” he asked.

“That goes last.” Brooke handed him a plastic whisk and removed the stick blender. “You need to emulsify the batter before adding anything else. Some fragrance oils speed up or slow down trace and you need to watch out for…never mind.”

“No, go on.”

Brooke waved her hands. “I’m trying to make this simple. I want you to understand that soapmaking isn’t mysterious or dangerous. It’s easy. It’s fun. I’m not going to complicate that with a lecture about the triglycerides in the oils undergoing the saponification process.”

“The what now?”

“Don’t worry about that. Now let’s add the fragrance before this batter sets up.” She poured it into the bowl. It hit the emulsified mixture and the scent seemed to soften and expand outward like a cloud.

Theo sunk the whisk into the bowl and gently folded in the fragrance oil. Unlike the original mixing with the stick blender, this part of the process seemed to warrant care, not speed. He took in every detail—the way the whisk broke the surface tension as it entered the batter, the small curls and waves as he stirred, the way the fragrance became part of his creation.

As he inhaled the fascinating scent, his awareness both focused on the bowl and also expanded outward to the whole room—the lighting, the temperature, the way Brooke stood inches away. A slight movement of his arm or his foot and he’d be touching her. Even through clothes, through gloves, through those oversized goggles, under it all was Brooke. The light in her eyes, her beauty, and her sparkle. The fragrance she’d created was part of her as well.

“You did it.” Brooke put her hand over his. “You made soap.”

Theo deliberately didn’t look at her. He tried to calm his erection as he focused on the bowl. “This is soap?”

“It will be. You’ve done everything a human can do. The rest is up to the chemical reaction.” She slid a brick-shaped mold toward him and handed him a spatula. “All of that batter goes in here.”

“Simple enough.” But it wasn’t simple. The bowl was heavier than it looked, and awkward to pour, and he splashed some on the sides. Brooke got a spatula of her own and tried to show him how to scrape out the container, but he pushed her spatula away with his. She nudged back, but only half-heartedly, and he got the last of the batter from the bowl to the mold.

“We have to get out any air bubbles.” Brooke banged the mold on the countertop a few times.

“Do you want me to…”

“Nah, that’s good. We’ll leave it on the counter overnight. Some people cover their soaps but I don’t with this recipe. If you’re making milk soap you have to—never mind.”

“I get that there’s a lot of science in this process that you think I’m not going to understand.”

“It’s not that. I like knowing how it works, but not everyone does. And you don’t have to understand it to make good soap. As long as you follow the steps, it will work.”

“So that’s it?” Theo asked. “Can I finally take off these gloves?”

“Yes.” Brooke removed her gloves and goggles. “But we’re still not done. We have to do the dishes.”

Chapter Fifteen

Brooke often thought that one of the best and worst things about having ADHD was her funny relationship to time. She was bad at learning from past mistakes. She wasn’t super good at planning for the future. But if something interesting was happening in the present moment, she would concentrate on it to the exclusion of all else.

And what she was concentrating on was Theo.

Safety gear could only disguise his looks so much. The man was hot. And now that he’d stripped off his goggles and gloves, and rolled up his sleeves? He was dangerously hot.

He prided himself on his brains, but Brooke didn’t care how smart Theo was, or how much education he had, or how clever his words were. All she could think about was the physicality of him. The set of his shoulders, the strength in his arms, the care in his hands as he held the bowl and the whisk, the way his brow wrinkled in concentration, smoothing into satisfaction as his creation came together.

But the best part was the moment when he finally got it—when soapmaking clicked for him. Even through his goggles, she couldn’t mistake the light in his eyes. As delightful as it was to be able to say, “I told you so,” it was even more delightful to be sharing the experience with him.

Theo touched her shoulder and stepped closer to the sink, entering her personal space. “I can wash those.”

“I don’t mind.” Her voice quivered when she spoke and she cleared her throat, attempting to sound normal. “This is part of the job.”

“Is there some special method to follow for this too?”

“There’s nothing special about doing dishes.”