Page 41 of Moonlight and Mischief
Frowning, I look between her and Jasper. “But it’s spring time. Pumpkin spice is for fall.”
“So?” Daisy says, little hands going to her hips.
Jasper smirks and our eyes meet, exasperation mingled with amusement. “What makes up pumpkin spice? Because I definitely don’t have any pumpkin.” He opens the spice cabinet. I’m concerned how old most of those seasonings are because they probably came with the cabin, but it won’t matter for playdough.
Clicking my nails on the bowl, I try to recall. “Cinnamon for sure.”
“Done,” Jasper says, plunking the little glass jar down.
“Nutmeg and allspice?” I guess. He has nutmeg but not allspice. “Oh, and ginger, of course.”
“And again, we have success. Three out of the four isn’t too bad.”
Daisy nods enthusiastically. She reaches for the ginger. Jasper takes the bowl while she sprinkles the pungent spice over the dough. They make a great team, so I go to Dahlia and lift her onto my hip so she can watch her sister pour an ungodly amount of cinnamon into the dough.
“Watch it with the cinnamon. That can bother your skin,” I say. Jasper takes hold of the jar to temper Daisy’s enthusiastic shaking.
I can’t help but smile as Jasper struggles to mix in the spices.
“It’s probably time to knead it by hand,” I say.
Jasper hesitates only a second. Then he’s plopping the lump onto sprinkled flour and folding it over with his palms. Watching his hands work is mesmerizing.
“Have you kneaded dough before?”
He shrugs. “I may have been watching sourdough videos online. Like where they decorate them all fancy.”
“Impressive,” I say, my eyes following his rhythmic folding and stretching.
Baby Dahlia tugs sharply on a lock of my hair, pulling me from my stupor. Wincing, I extract my hair and begin bouncing on the balls of my feet to keep her happy. She’s getting too big for this.
“How does that look?” Jasper asks, his expression vulnerable.
“Great. Can you toss it in that plastic bag?” He complies and zips the edge closed. I grasp the bowl and take it to the sink with my free hand.
“Why don’t you guys go play and I’ll clean up,” Jasper suggests. But Daisy growls her disagreement and seizes his hand.
“Go,” I say. “I’ve got this, and you could do with some fun.” He takes Dahlia from me and follows Daisy. She drags him toward the bathroom. While I wipe down the counter, Daisy brushes his pale hair and begins to wrap tiny rubber bands around tufts of it.
When Jasper walks out again, I can hardly breathe for the laughter shaking my entire body.
“Glad you’re amused,” he growls.
“You’re so pretty,” Daisy coos, her hands holding Dahlia’s to help her sister bumble across the wood floor.
Jasper comes up behind me, hands hugging my waist. “Don’t you think I’m pretty too?”
“Very much,” I say, twisting to face him. Fingers linked behind his neck, I admire Daisy’s styling. “And you smell amazing,” I say, leaning closer to smell the sprinkle of nutmeg and ginger across his chest.
“Careful,” he rumbles. My heart jumps into my throat at the sly smirk on his handsome face.
Feeling flustered, I turn back to the girls. “You guys want to paint? We’ve got to go outside, and we need to put on extra shirts.” Daisy claps and Dahlia squeals. I can feel Jasper’s eyes on me, but he stays quiet.
It doesn’t take long to outfit the girls with smocks and fingerpaints. I lay a stretch of butcher paper across the ground. The girls happily draw rainbow lines and dots across the paper.
Exhausted, I drop into the closest hammock. I don’t mean for my eyes to close, but I can monitor them with my inhuman hearing.
“Oh, this looks good,” Jasper says. Sitting up, I look from him to the girls. My mouth falls open. The girls have moved from their canvas to the exterior wall of the cabin. So much for monitoring them.
