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Olympia grinned.
I peered over at him.
Was I blushing?
I felt like I was blushing.
“Good morning,” I said quietly.
“Good morning. I didn’t see you this morning, so I thought I’d bring you some tea.” He strolled into the room and set the tea tray down to the left of me. “And water for the fruit juice guzzler.” He reached over me and put a patterned bottle in front of her.
“Aw.” Olympia looked at it sadly. “It wasn’t the whole carton, Papa. Just half.”
“Still water,” Alex replied with his lips twisting into a smile. “And I’ll leave you to it.” His fingers brushed my shoulder when he turned, and I dropped my gaze to my laptop keyboard and hoped he wouldn’t notice I’d stiffened.
I did not want to shiver right now.
Not that a shiver mattered when he’d made me orgasm yesterday.
He chuckled quietly as he left, pulling the door closed behind him, and I busied myself pouring a cup of tea so I didn’t glare after him.
He knew what he was doing, the sod.
“Addy!” Olympia nudged me. “Are you daydreaming?”
I blinked and shook my head. “Sorry. I don’t think I’m awake yet.” I rubbed my eyes and smiled at her. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
“Finally!”
***
I burst out laughing at the sight in front of me. I had no idea how Olympia was so covered in flour, but a quick look at me said I hadn’t fared much better.
We hadn’t even mixed the batter yet, and we were both an absolute bloody mess.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, holding tightly to her wooden spoon. “Mrs. Anderson and Boris are not going to be happy with us.”
“It’s fine. We’ll clean it up,” I said, hurrying her to the bowl. “Quick, mix those dry ingredients. Do you have an electric mixer?”
“Um, the thing with the whisky bits in?”
“The whisky bits?” I frowned. Why on Earth would a mixer have whisky in it?
Wait.
She didn’t mean whisky.
She meant whisks.
“Oh, the whisks!” I clapped my hand to my forehead, probably leaving more flour there. “Yes, that.”
“In the pantry. Um, at the top. Where I can’t reach it.”
There was a story there.
For most kids it would be for safety reasons. For Olympia, however…
I fetched the mixer from the pantry and stopped dead in the doorway.
“Papa, look, we’re baking!” Olympia exclaimed happily, standing up on her tiptoes.
“So I see,” Alexander said, scanning the flour-coated kitchen. “What are you mixing it with? A tornado?”
“Nope! A spoon!” Olympia flicked the spoon out of the bowl to show him, upending a spoonful of the dry ingredients in the process. “See?”
“Careful!” I said, carrying the mixer over. “There’ll be nothing in the bowl at this rate!”
“There’s something left in the bowl?” Alex asked, coming over.
“Har, har, har,” I retorted. “Aren’t you a real comedian? You’re so funny.”
“I didn’t think it was funny,” Olympia said, her attention back on the bowl.
God bless her not understanding sarcasm.
“Neither did I,” I agreed. “Let’s get this in the mixer while we melt the chocolate.”
“Perhaps I should melt the chocolate,” Alex said, rolling up his sleeves.
I would never know how he could wear a full-length shirt at the height of summer.
All right, so we didn’t exactly live in Australia, but twenty-four degrees Celsius was very bloody hot, thank you very much.
“We can do it,” I said.
“No. I’m a little reluctant letting you add the wet ingredients, to be honest.” He eyed the mixer. “At least the mixer is doing that part.”
“It’s not that bad!” I insisted, then paused.
Okay.
Fine.
It was that bad.
“I’ll melt the chocolate.” He held his hands out, and I dutifully passed him the glass bowl full of chocolate.
“Spoilsport.” I tipped the dry ingredients into the mixer’s matching bowl and added the wet, then set up the mixer. Olympia pushed the button to turn it on at my instruction, and when it was all mixed, Alexander slid over with the bowl of melted chocolate and slowly poured it into the batter.
We crowded around the mixer, and Olympia slipped in between us. She raised up onto her tiptoes and peered over the rim of the bowl, and both me and Alexander did the same.
It was… too comfortable. With the three of us here, like this.
Both of us leaning over Olympia, watching the mixer… Something inside me twisted with an emotion I wasn’t sure I fully understood, and the moment Olympia looked up at me with a wide smile and eyes that shone with pure happiness, my heart skipped.
Given the option, I was sure it might have skipped right on out of my chest.
“Is it done?” she asked after a moment, breaking through my thoughts.
“Are there any lumps? Can you see any?” I replied.
She got as close as she could without being whisked up herself. “No lumps. Does that mean it’s ready?”
“Sure does,” Alexander said. “Have you done the cupcake trays yet?”
“Yep.” Olympia turned off the mixer and dragged Alex over to the island counter where we’d already lined two cupcake trays with rainbow polka dot cake cases. “See?”
