Page 57 of Not the Puck Bunny

“Convenient.” She smiled.

“We could carpool.” I grabbed out a bowl and spoon.

“You're usually there earlier than I am,” she said. “You cook?”

“I don't just cook,” I said, picking up the flour to start measuring the right amount. “I can bake.” I waved the spoon in the air like a flourish, and bowed.

“Impressive.” She stepped over and leaned her hip against the side of the island.

“Don't be too impressed, I haven't baked in years. Not since I helped my mother make birthday cakes. This could all go horribly wrong.”

“I can't bake at all. That may increase the odds of this being an absolute disaster.” She picked up my tablet and read the recipe. “Chocolate cupcakes?”

“I heard a rumor you like them,” I said. “I figured it was something we could do together.” I'd racked my brains, trying to think of something special I could do for her and came up with a list. This was the first item of many.

“Okay, where do we start?” she asked.

I glanced over at the recipe. “It says we have to cream the butter and sugar.”

I frowned and thought back. “I think that means we have to mix them together until they look creamy.” I measured the butter and put it into the bowl with the sugar, but then tapped at the butter with the spoon. It was cold and hard.

“This might take a while.” I picked up the bowl, tucked it into my elbow and started trying to stir the mixture. I gritted my teeth and worked at it until it finally started to soften. “This might be harder than playing hockey.”

“It certainly looks like it,” she agreed. “It says we have to sift the flour next. What does that mean?”

I peered over at the recipe. “I don't know. I guess we can just throw it into the bowl.”

I placed the bowl on the countertop and picked up the flour. The bottom of the bag broke, sending flour pouring down onto the black marble, and flying into the air like a puff of smoke.

“Shit.” I waved a hand in front of myself to clear the air. All I succeeded in doing was turning my hand white and scattering the flour even further. “That wasn't supposed to happen.”

Andi giggled. “I didn't think it was. Is there enough left in the bag for the cupcakes?”

I held up the bag in front of me and peered into one end. The end that was supposed to be open. I raised it higher and looked at her through the empty paper bag.

“Nope.” Flour was everywhere except where it was supposed to be. All over the island and driftingdown to the floor. The front of my shirt was covered in it. My jeans too.

“I don't suppose we can bake a cake without it,” she said.

“Probably not,” I agreed, my smile growing playfully sly. “But we can do this.” I grabbed up two handfuls of flour and threw them at her. The fine powder hit her in the chest and chin, covering her skin and purple sweater.

For a moment, I thought she'd be angry. I cursed myself for acting so rash. She might walk right out the door and never speak to me again.

But then, she laughed and scooped up more of the flour to flick at me.

“Like that, is it?” I grinned. “You wanted a war? You've got one.” With the back of my hand, I scraped a pile of flour to the edge of the island and swept it in her direction.

She squealed and waved her hands in front of her face. “You suck.” But she was laughing and flicking flour back at me.

I picked up a couple of handfuls and stalked her around the island, while she tried to evade me.

“You can run, but you can't hide.” I grinned. I followed her around to the original pile of flour before realizing she'd drawn me thereso she could grab up more and throw it at me. I ducked and threw mine at her legs.

I was laughing so hard, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I slipped on a pile of flour. Windmilling my arms, I lost my balance and fell on my ass.

She grabbed something off the counter and disappeared behind the island.

I wasn't sure where she was or what she was up to, until she appeared right behind me. With a giggle of glee, she cracked an egg directly over my head, the cold contents dribbling onto my hair. She threw the shell in the direction of the trash and bolted to the other side of the kitchen.

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