Page 12 of Sugared

As he zipped around the kitchen, laying out everything his morning teen class would need to make the cakes for that night’s supper and checking on the sauces between tasks, his mind kept drifting to ways that he could ask Ean whether he wanted to sleep in the bed with him going forward instead of under a blanket on the couch. He bounced back and forth between telling himself that it was just for comfort and convenience, but that didn’t stop fantasies of Ean naked under him from popping into his mind at inconvenient times.

Maybe he was some sort of grim predator taking advantage of someone who depended on him, but Ean seemed just as keen as he was. And wasn’t Robert Hawthorne and the rest of the family always talking about how sexuality should be freeing and enjoyable instead of something used to make you feel bad about yourself?

Leland’s thoughts settled into the much more practical when he realized Ean had all the ingredients for the biscuit laid out on the workspace in front of him but was staring at the recipe card with a frown. He cursed himself for not noticing earlier, then left the stove to stride over to Ean.

“Do you want me to read the recipe for you?” he asked carefully as the noisy teen students started to arrive.

Ean glanced up at him with the sweetest look of hope. “Actually, I’m doing pretty good at making it out,” he said. “I have to concentrate, but I’m not as stressed out as I was, so the letters are behaving themselves.”

Leland grinned. “Good,” he said. “Carry on, then.”

Without thinking about it, he leaned in and kissed Ean’s cheek the way he would if the two of them were dating.

As soon as the action was finished, the two of them froze and stared at each other, both of them flushing.

“Sir! Sir! Are we making heart-shaped cakes today?” one of the teenage girls called out.

The moment was shattered before Leland could make anything of it. The last thing he could do was have a much-needed relationship talk with Ean when the kitchen had just flooded with rowdy teenagers who dove right into the ingredients laid out on the countertops without being told.

“Yes, we’ll be making heart-shaped cakes today,” he said, giving his full attention to the class out of necessity. “But wait for instructions before you touch anything.”

Waiting for instructions was not something that particular class was good at. Leland spent the next hour racing from one end of the kitchen classroom to the other, attempting to keep the lid on the class. Someone must have given them loads of Valentine’s Day chocolate before they’d arrived, because they were all hyper and mischievous.

Ordinarily, he might have been amused by their high spirits, but he definitely wasn’t laughing when a carton of eggs ended up smashed on the floor, several boys’ uniforms ended up white with flour, and when one of the girls broke down in tears because she didn’t get a Valentine’s Day gift from the boy she was certain she was dating.

And that was just the teen class.

After they left, leaving half as many cakes as were needed for the supper because an entire batch had been burnt, one of the adult classes arrived. They were responsible for preparing the vegetable side dishes that would go with the main meal, but as they opened the boxes that had been delivered by the grocer in the middle of the chaotic teen class, they discovered piles of courgettes instead of the broccoli he’d ordered.

“We’ll have to pivot,” he told the half dozen mostly retired ladies who made up the class.

“Pivoting is something we’ve always been good at,” Betty said, winking at Arthur.

The two of them giggled and proceeded to be as bad as the teenagers, and much naughtier, for the rest of the class, as they put together a side dish using the courgettes.

Throughout that entire ordeal, Leland watched as Ean skillfully made a perfect, giant, heart-shaped biscuit. Ean was a sea of calm and focus in the middle of the busy kitchen, no matter what the class was getting up to. Once he finished the biscuit, he quietly took it upon himself to bake the rest of the cakes they would need for the supper without Leland telling him what to do. It was as if he just knew what his job was and he was determined to carry it out to the best of his abilities.

That skill came in even handier after lunch, when the real cooking began.

“We’ll leave the salmon until the last minute so it doesn’t dry out,” Leland instructed his afternoon adult class, the only class he trusted with the important bits of the meal, as Ean listened while decorating the biscuit. “But for now, we can start prepping the plates so they can be taken right out.”

Leland actually trusted that class to do what needed to be done, which gave him a moment to check on Ean.

What he discovered in the far corner of the room was not only a brilliantly decorated biscuit, but rows and rows of tiny heart-shaped cakes that had been iced and decorated so beautifully that Leland would have expected to see them in a high-end patisserie.

“Wow! Look at all this,” he said, smiling at Ean as much as the cakes. “Where did you learn to decorate like this?”

Ean blinked up at him. “I didn’t,” he said. “I mean, I’ve watched that baking show. I’m mostly making it up as I go along, though.”

“This is amazing,” Leland said, studying the cakes again. “Who knew you had the heart and soul of a pastry chef.”

“I’m not sure I do,” Ean said.

As he spoke, he rubbed the back of his hand over his nose, which must have been itching. He had icing on his hand, though, and the movement left a blob of pink sugar on his cheek.

“Hold on. You’ve just got some—” Leland pointed at the blob of icing, but then took it upon himself to cup the side of Ean’s face and wipe it away with his finger.

It was the best mistake he could have made. Ean froze and glanced up at him with hunger in his eyes. Leland’s heart squeezed and rioted in his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to stop touching Ean, even though he vaguely registered the buzz of other people in the kitchen behind him. Ean’s cheek was too warm under his hand, and the hope in his eyes made Leland want to fight the world just to make him happy.

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