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“Okay, Bambi. I’ll text you when I’m on the way,” I tell her, and she hangs up.
“What’s going on?” King asks. I shake my head and rub my eyes. My contacts are bugging me today.
“Not sure, but after we leave, I’m going over to Gracie’s if you want to come,” I say, and he glances over his shoulder at Ash, who is shuffling from the bathroom to his bed. King looks back at me and bites his bottom lip.
“I think I’ll stay here tonight. Keep an eye on him,” he mumbles, and I nod.
“I’ll save you some cookies. Bring them to school tomorrow.”
“Yes, fuck. I miss Gracie’s cookies. I wonder if they taste the same,” he says, and I raise a brow at that.
“Why wouldn’t they?” I ask, and he rubs the back of his neck.
“She has amnesia, and she never follows a recipe…” he trails off when Ash groans loudly. Sighing, King gives me a fist bump, then marches back inside the bedroom. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Prince Asshole,” he says to Ash, and I laugh.
The new nickname fits him.
* * *
I reachGracie’s house and let myself in. She sent me a message telling me her mom was in bed and Gray had gone out. I find her in the kitchen, covered in flour. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s humming along to the radio.
I watch her for a few minutes. She seems happy. Like nothing in the world is currently on her shoulders. I drop my bag onto the floor. I didn’t want to presume, but it’s already past nine, so if she does want me to stay, I can get ready for school here.
I move closer to her and grip her hips, pulling her back against my chest. She sighs and keeps mixing the batter in the large bowl. She has a Kitchenaid mixer, but she’s always loved to stir by hand.
“So what are we baking today, Miss Rose?” I whisper into her neck, giving her a little kiss. She squirms and clears her throat.
“Umm, red velvet with white chocolate chips,” she says, but her voice is husky. I laugh and let her go. She takes in a deep breath, then places the bowl on the counter and spins around. She gives me a quick kiss, and I grip the back of her neck, pulling her lips harder to mine.
She tastes like chocolate, and I groan, enjoying my taste before she pulls away. “What can I do?” I ask as she catches her breath. Her cheeks are flushed, and a few blonde tendrils have escaped her bun from my fingers.
She blinks up at me for a few seconds, then smiles. “You can keep stirring while I place paper on the cookie sheets.” I nod and take over for her. After a few minutes, my arms start to get sore, and I laugh.
“Why don’t you use your mixer? You have a paddle attachment specifically for cookie batter.”
A smack on my ass has me surprised, and she laughs. “It helps me relieve stress. I’m out of yeast; otherwise, I would have been baking bread too. I love kneading the dough and getting rid of some tension.”
She takes the bowl from me and hands me plastic gloves. She grabs a small ice cream scoop and scrapes the bowl before placing it onto my palm. I roll the balls and then drop them onto the cookie sheet.
We do this until four cookie pans are filled and ready to bake. The Rose’s have two ovens in their kitchen for this purpose, and I have to ask. “Why so many cookies?” She starts to clean up her mess, and I grab some dish soap to fill the sink.
I know Gracie only ever uses the dishwasher for a last rinse. She refuses to place dirty dishes inside. She moves beside me and gives me a smile. “I was hoping to bring some to the Children’s center this weekend. I plan to make some Halloween sugar cookies too. They seem to be a hit with the kids,” she says as she places the dishes into the racks.
“I can take you before the party. If you like?” She pauses for a moment and bites her bottom lip.
“I don’t know if I’m going to the party yet, Dom. After this morning with Ash, I think it would be better to just stay home and hand out candy or something. I don’t think I ever really liked parties,” she grumbles, and I laugh.
“You always went to them. You would find a corner in the room, usually a chair, and then read a book. We used to make sure you always had a spot, no matter whose house it was,” I say with a smile.
She laughs and wipes down the counter. “Okay, I’ll go, but not for long.” I finish the dishes, then dry my hands off and grab Gracie. She’s bent over, placing a pan into the oven, and she squeals.
I wait until the oven is shut, then spin her around and press her back into the fridge. She shivers, but I don’t think it’s due to the cold coming off the stainless steel. I gaze into her eyes and place my hand on her throat. She swallows, and I love how I can feel it and her pulse racing.
“I don’t want to assume, but am I staying the night, Bambi?”
She glances over at the bag I brought, then nods.
“I’d like you to. If you want to, that is. I kn—” I cut her off with a press of my mouth against hers, and she moans. I glance at the timer, then grip her thighs, and she jumps up, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I press her harder into the refrigerator and kiss her, tangling my tongue with hers.
