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She snorted. “I can attest that he loves cherries.”
Jazz’s face filled the iPad screen. “Oh, really?” She looked over her shoulder. “Did you hear that, Harp?”
“I did.”
“You know, I FaceTimed you guys to get help on the cherry-infused ganache, not commentary.”
“Comes free with purchase.” Jazz smiled.
Chloe was on her third batch and the last one had tasted like something she’d scrape off her shoe, not put on top of the coconut cherry cupcakes she’d found on Pinterest. She wanted a little bit of decadence to balance out the super sweet.
Not burnt tar.
It was their first Valentine’s Day, dammit. She already had a two year old crashing her first romance-centric holiday, she was not going to have a crap dessert.
Her dad had called to let her know he had strep. No thank you very much. And Lori’s husband was finally home for a visit. Definitely no go there.
“Make sure the honey is dissolved before you take it off the heat. If you don’t it just screws everything up.” Harper’s voice came from the opposite end of her kitchen in the Hollywood Hills.
Jazz’s huge blue eyes came into frame. “Catch that?”
Chloe looked down at her pot, finally noticing that the honey was in fact not ready. “Huh. Look at that.”
“You should see us figuring out recipes. The grocery bill—wowsah. I swear Deacon and Gray are ready to take away the van some days.”
She definitely didn’t have that problem. Michael was forever giving her grief because she spent hours pouring over coupons. If he had his way they’d have no budget at all.
And because she’d been spending so much time in the kitchen, she’d been talking to Jazz and Harper a lot lately. It was nice to have moms to talk to, as well as trade recipes with. “You liked my banana-apricot oatmeal swirl?”
Jazz nodded. “It was awesome. I gave it to Dylan this morning actually. The kid is a bottomless pit lately, but that filled him up for two whole hours. A true blue miracle.”
Chloe could feel her cheeks heating. “I didn’t mean to volunteer a recipe.”
Jazz grinned. “Actually, Michael volunteered it. Getting him to eat anything that doesn’t come in a rainbow colored cereal box was all the testimonial we needed.”
Harper peeked around Jazz’s shoulder. “Actually, if you have a few more, I think I’m going to do an oatmeal chapter.”
“I have one with apples…”
Harper stopped mixing whatever was in her huge bowl. “And…” she said expectantly.
Chloe gnawed on her lower lip. She was forever figuring out ways to get healthy food into both of the men in her life. “It’s not traditional, but Michael practically licks the bowl when I make it.”
Harper set the bowl down on her stainless steel table. “I want it.”
“Maple bacon jam swirl.”
“Ding, ding. I knew you’d have something else. Can you email me the recipe? Actually, better yet, Jazz and I will come over next week. How’s that? We’ll make a test batch.”
Surprise and pleasure battled for control of the lump in her throat. “That’d be great.”
“How’s the cherry ganache?”
Chloe lifted the iPad off its stand and brought it to the pot. “What do you think?”
“Perfect. Let it cool for twenty minutes. Follow the rest of the steps and you’ll be golden.”
She blew out a breath. “Finally. I didn’t think I’d ever get this thing right. I might even have time to shave my legs above the knee.”
