Page 39 of The Moment They Can Never Forgive
“Heat the oven to 325,” he said, reading the instructions while she stared at him.
Dan kept running through them until she jumped off the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her turn on the oven. She then began assembling and measuring ingredients, like baking was something they did together every day, as if there wasn’t a whole lot of shit festering between them.
He knew she kept shooting him looks because he could feel her eyes. But he kept his on the book in his hands.
Over the next ten minutes, he leaned on the counter and led her through cookie making, while she, to his surprise, did as he told her to do.
“Now, drop spoonfuls of dough on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper,” Dan said.
“I don’t have that paper.”
They stared at the baking sheets.
“Who knew you needed so much stuff to just make cookies,” Dan muttered.
“Your brother is my guess.”
As if on cue, the door opened, and in walked Ryder.
“What are you doing?” He came closer and looked at the bowl of cookie dough Leah had just made.
“Making cookies,” Leah said.
“Why? I brought food.”
Dan didn’t answer. If Leah wanted Ryder to know she couldn’t cook, then that was up to her.
“I can’t cook, and your brother walked in when I was trying to,” she said.
Ryder smiled. “So you tried to help her when you can’t cook, either, Dan?”
“Look at that cookie dough. It’s perfect,” Dan said. “And while you do, tell Leah how to put them on a cookie sheet if you don’t have parchment paper.”
“Rub some butter on the baking sheets, and they’ll slide right off.”
Leah nodded and did as Ryder said.
Dan had kept his distance from her while she was baking and tried not to stiffen every time she got close and he smelled her scent. For the most part, she kept her distance as well, and he knew there was tension between them, but in that moment, they’d shelved it to bake cookies. It would be back in spades, and they’d have to deal with it, but not now. Not when she was vulnerable.
It was hard to see this side of her when she was usually so strong. Dan knew she was still that, but losing Cassie must have been hell for Leah, and then to be raising her son…. He had no idea what she was going through. He hoped the panic attacks eased soon. But he’d be speaking to Birdie and ensuring she got Leah to Dr. Hannah.
“Okay, I think you two have it from here. I need to check those things I said. You put the coffee on. They’ll be screaming for it soon.”
His eyes fell on a set of really cool mugs. They were the color of the ocean when you hit its deepest part, and that shade graduated to a lighter blue around the rim. Moving closer, he picked one up and saw it had the name Cassie on it. The one next to it Hudson, and the last one Leah. On the bottom was a mark he couldn’t read.
“Who made these?” Dan asked, looking at Leah, who was watching him study the mugs.
She shrugged.
“A shrug is not an answer in anyone’s language,” Ryder said. “And those are cool. I’ve been thinking of getting a stand set up to sell local in the cafe, and thought mugs, and other pottery would be good.”
Because he was watching her, Dan saw the flash of something in her green eyes, and just as quickly, it was gone before he could read it.
“That’s a good idea,” Leah said, looking at the cookies again.
Dan and Ryder shot each other a look. He shrugged and lowered the mug back down onto the counter. He then headed for the door. If she didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t making her… yet.
“Dan.” He turned as Leah said his name. “Thank you.”
