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“We both know buyin’ ingredients isn’treallyhelpin’,” my best friend turned fake boyfriend turned real friends with benefits sweetly rebuttals.
“Okay.” Placing the copper measuring cup down beside the other tools is gently done. “Can we agree then that buying meall new bakewareis helping?”
“Nope.” He glances around at the items I’m referencing. “This was a necessity since you couldn’t get toyourpersonal bakeware.”
“And the new wedding themed cookbooks?”
“You needed research materials. Still doesn’t count.”
“And this bright pink, ‘hot stuff coming through’ apron?”
“Gear,” Slater replies without missing a beat. “You needed proper clothin’ for the mission at hand.”
Resisting the urge to laugh again isn’t even entertained.
“Now, what can I do to really help?” The corner of his lip curls upward. “You know I’m not afraid of gettin’ my hands dirty.” Heat instantly burns my cheeks prompting me to bite down on my bottom lip, an action that pushes him to purr, “I haven’t seen that look enough today.”
Maybe not, but he’s damn sure seen it plenty over the past seventy hours.
Rather than acknowledge his statement, I decide to switch subjects, “Why do you wanna help me bake?”
“Why do you wanna not let me help you bake?”
“It’s not that I don’t want your help-”
“It kinda feels like you don’t want my help.” Humor has his words bouncing through the air. “Is this because I didn’t know there was a special way to measure flour?”
“Cake flour.”
“Is it because I didn’t know there was a difference between flour andcake flour?”
Dropping my palms onto the nearby countertop is attached to an amused headshake. “No.”
“No, it’s not because I didn’t know the difference in the ingredients or no, it’s not because I’m not great at measurin’ in the kitchen?”
“Neither.” The wide mouth grin he inspires stays in place. “If you actually wanna help me bake, I will happily let you be my second, but if you’re only helping me because you think youhave tohelp since you’re here or since it’s happening in our kitchen then I would rather do it alone. Baking brings me joy. And peace. And it’s one of the only places where I don’t feel like a giant weirdo for being so precise and overanalyzing every little detail during the process.”
“First off, your analytical skills that you think make you too strange to socialize with have savedso many livesover the years, Arley, it’s remarkable.” He lets his stance match mine. “Your attention to detail, your ability to tweak the smallest portion of an equation for better results, is the reason men like me have the success rates we do. If you didn’t overanalyze and evaluate our patterns and behaviors and movements and cross check them with environments, we’re most equipped to handle and the terrain we’re most familiar with and the skills that are the sharpest, more people would be dead. More children –like me– would still be in the hands of people who should’ve never had them to begin with.”
His words wrap so tightly around me I can barely breathe.
“And second, I’d never wannatake awaysomethin’ that makes you happy, baby. I only wanna give you more of it.” Slater’s smile suddenly softens to the point it melts my soul. “And if you let me…bea partof it.” He presents a small shrug. “You’re always learnin’ somethin’ new for me. Let me learn somethin’ new for you.”
“That’s…different.”
“How is that different?”
“Learning about weapons and foreign policies and cultural customs helps me be better at my job.”
“And learnin’ how to properly separate egg yolk helps me be better at mine.”
Confusion causes me to twitch my eyebrows.
“Bein’ the best in the field matters to me, but bein’ the besthere…at home…for you…matters so much more.” Watching the words practically twinkle as they leave his mouth takes my breath away. “Bein’ the best man in your life is a job I take very seriously, Angel Cake. Always have. Always will.” The faintest hint of red stains his cheeks; however, he does his best to brush it off, “Now, what can I do to help?”
After giving my bottom lip another small bite, I finally surrender. “You can help me put the cupcake liners in the muffin pans.”
“Happy to, General.”
