Page 32 of Frost
“Crack,” I answer before sticking the sheet in the preheated oven. “My mom makes these babies every New Year’s Eve.”
“Crack?” Jack squats down and peeks through the glass front on the oven. “I’m eager to try it.”
“Well, it’s not literal crack,” I clarify with a laugh. “It just seems like it because once I start eating them, I can’t stop.”
Jack watches the treats bake. And I watch him.
He’s often said I’m like a child, but in this moment, he reminds me of one himself with his wide-eyed wonder. He’s so damn precious to me, and my hands start to shake as I think about the day when I’ll have to leave him.
Because this thing between us can’t continue forever. I thought I accepted that fact, but staring at him right now brings the truth forward. I won’t ever be able to say goodbye to him.
After about seven minutes, I pull the tray from the oven and set it on the stovetop.
“Let them cool first,” I say, swatting at his hand as he tries to snatch one. “You’ll burn yourself.”
Jack leans down, arms on the counter and chin resting on top of his hands, and just stares at the baking sheet. He then jerks back up and approaches it. “Enough of this nonsense.” He sticks a hand over the sheet, and the air shifts beneath his palm. I don’t see anything, but I feel the area around him cool.
I bark out a laugh when I realize he’s using his power to cool them. God, he’s so impatient.
“Much better,” he says before grabbing one and popping it into his mouth. He chews for a second before shutting his eyes and groaning. “It’s like a burst of paradise on my tongue.”
I grab one too. It’s cooled enough to eat but not frozen. He has perfect control over his ability. “That power of yours really comes in handy.”
“You should see how handy it is in the bedroom.” Jack eats another pretzel treat, then goes in for a third.
I, however, stop chewing. “What do you mean?”
His eyes lift to mine, and within the blue depths, I see nothing but mischief. “Perhaps I’ll show you sometime.”
I swallow the treat with a loud gulp, then take a steadying breath. I fucked him not even four hours ago, but I want him again. I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting him. “Can’t wait.”
Jack’s impatience extends to the cookies, and he grabs the dough from the fridge, unwraps it, and places his hands on top. He brings it to the right temperature before flashing me a smug smile. I laugh again and kiss his cheek.
We roll out the dough, and since we don’t have cookie cutters, we form them into balls and place them on the cooking sheet. Once it goes in the oven, he helps me make real hot cocoa, not the powder kind I’d been drinking over the past week. The recipe is super simple, so it doesn’t take much to prepare it. All we need is unsweetened cocoa powder, bittersweet chocolate, milk, and sugar. I like to put a splash of vanilla extract in mine as well to give it an extra layer of flavor. And of course, Baileys Irish Cream.
“Well?” I ask after I pour us each a hefty mug and he takes a drink. “What do you think?”
Jack scrunches up his face before taking a second drink. “I think…” He grabs another pretzel treat and shoves it into his mouth. “That it tastes amazing and goes great with this crack.”
By the time all the cookies come out of the oven, we’ve both already had one glass. I pile the cookies onto a plate and refill our mugs before going to sit on the couch. A lamp on the side table is on, and it, along with the fire, is all that lights up the room. The golden glow and shadows flickering on the walls are relaxing.
“I had fun today,” Jack says, his gaze on the fire before he looks at me.
“Me too.”
“I liked showing you my home.” He smiles before taking a drink of his spiked hot cocoa. “I liked even more seeing you play with your ice spear. However, what you did with your other spear in the pool was even more enjoyable.”
I almost spit my drink and cough as I wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand. “Warn a guy before saying shit like that. Damn.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” Jack takes a cookie from the plate and nibbles on it. “Something’s been on my mind.”
“What’s up?”
Jack searches my face again in the same way he did in the kitchen. “Your ex must be the dumbest man on the planet to have ever let you go.”
“It’s not all his fault,” I admit. “I wasn’t the best partner either. I spent most of my spare time in my office, ignoring him.”
“Why?” Jack places his mug on the coffee table and turns to me on the cushion.
