Page 35 of Kiss Me, Darling

This was the kind of cake you either loved or hated. If you were a hard core “I want all the sugar” kind of person, then the lack of sweetness in the cake plus the untraditional use of maple syrup as a sweetener in the frosting, is off putting.

But if you were up for something a little different, this cake was a feast for the senses.

Plus baking it always made me feel closer to my grandmother and those long ago days of afternoon bake sessions. Learning the necessity of properly greasing baking dishes, the difference between shortening, butter, and oil. And of course, getting to lick the beaters, spoon, and bowl as reward for my hard work.

I had just finished adding green dye to the frosting and was in the process of licking the beater clean when Scott cleared his throat.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

I held up the metal utensil. “Reward for all my hard work.”

His eyes remained fixated on my mouth. My grandmother never explained that baking could also be sexy. But seeing the dark look in Scott’s eyes now made it clear that baking could indeed be very, very sexy.

“There’s a method. You have to lick all the outside parts first, then the inside, where all the good stuff is.” I demonstrated, thrilled by how tortured he looked.

He stood frozen on the other side of the kitchen, so I dropped the utensils into the sink and picked up a clean spoon, dipping it into the waiting bowl of frosting and moving to stand right in front of Scott.

A man who appeared to have forgotten how to breathe. “Here. Try it.”

He gulped. I held out the spoon. His tongue darted out and swiped. I watched, breathless now, as his tongue moved. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes grew even darker.

“Oh, that is good. But it’s missing something.”

“It’s not missing anything.” I made aperfectbatch.

“Oh but it is.” He took the spoon, dipped his finger into the frosting, and then smeared it just below my most sensitive ear. Well, the part just behind and below the ear. When Scott kissed me there it was intense. When he kissed me behind my other ear it tickled.

So I held my breath with anticipation as he moved his hips against mine, placed his hands around me, and dipped his lips to my skin, licking, sucking and tasting me.

And the frosting.

My knees wobbled. My heart pounded. I couldn’t quite breathe.

“See?” His voice rumbled against my sensitive skin. “It was missing you. It’s perfect now.”

I gulped. Baking was, indeed,verysexy.

“You should make more just for us.”

“It’s complicated,” I breathed.

“So are we.”

He made a very good point. “Maybe if you’re very, very good.”

He pulled me tight against him and kissed me on the lips. “I’ll be an angel.”

* * *

Joelovedthe cake.His excitement made me feel a little bit better about the errand running. He even brought me the perfect canvas.

“This is like Thanksgiving!” London was delighted with my dinner choice.

I made roasted chicken, not turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, stuffing, and a large salad. All of it was pretty much gone. The new dining room table was littered with the carnage of seven hungry people. The big family meal was a success.

“I love the way this table expands.” Ben was on his hands and knees inspecting the table. At first he was insulted we purchased it, but after I explained how it could easily expand from a six person table, to a twelve person table, accommodating family meals of all kinds, he let it go. “I could have built this, but it would have taken a while.”

“Plus you have plenty of projects on your plate right now,” London pointed out.

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