Page 30 of The Blessings of Christmas
“Right.” Gripping the rolling pin so hard that his hands hurt, he nodded. “Yep, Let's get on with it.” He attacked the mound of dough.
“Oh, Ryan,” she murmured. “Softer. You’re not trying to kill the cookie dough.”
“Okay, boss lady.” How could she be so patient with him? The one time his mother did try to make cookies the whole mess ended in the trash can and Mom took off for the bakery.
Now hewasthe bakery—or acting like it. He had to get this right so Sarah wasn’t embarrassed by his cookies.
“Here let me help.” Her arms went around him and Ryan froze. Suddenly they were rolling cookie dough together, her hands on his. He’d never felt anything so sexy in his life.
“Can you feel it?” she asked. “Just roll softly, softly.”
“Yep, I sure can,” he croaked out. He wouldn’t think about the warm breath on his neck. The vibration of her voice against his back. When the dough became a perfect circle, he figured it was a miracle.
But it wasn’t the cookie dough he wanted. No, he wanted to turn and take her in his arms. Kiss her sweet lips until they had to come up for air.
She was driving him crazy.
Jamie I told you I’d always watch out for Sarah. That’s all I’m trying to do.
But that was a lie. And he never could lie to his brother.
Sarah kept moving behind him, angling her head so she could see. “Just a little bit here and a little bit there.”
A lot could happen as a result of that little bit. When her body moved, every pore in his body leapt to life. Was he sweating bullets? Sure felt like it.
This could get embarrassing.
Then she released his hands and stepped back. Fresh air passed between them. “How’s that?” She blinked up at him in that innocent way she had.
“Fine. Just fine.” Irritation roughened his voice. He felt like diving into one of the snow banks. Maybe for her this was just another lesson.
She backed away. He took a breath.
“Well then.” Her eyes skittered from the ovens to the clock––anywhere but him. “Grease the baking sheet and choose your cookie cutters.’
“Sure. Right.”
“I’ll just get back...” Her arm hand waved and her mouth opened. But nothing came out. Maybe she wasn’t so calm after all.
“Back to work, boss lady.” There. That sounded authoritative. But he was putty––or cookie dough––in her hands.
So he started with the cookie cutters. Before she even finished her frosting work, he had three pans filled with gingerbread boys, reindeer and fat Santas.
Footsteps sounded on the back stairs just as he took the last pan from the oven. “Well don’t you two look busy.” Mrs. Wilkins stood there in a pretty pink sweater.
“Hi, Mom.” Walking over, Sarah kissed her mother’s cheek. She was like that. Dropping kisses as she went.
“We’re working on molasses cookies,” he said. The spicy smell filled the room.
“So I see.” She glanced over at the table littered with cookie cutters.
“I’m going to clean those,” he murmured.
Sarah’s mother tied on her apron. “How’s your Christmas season going, Ryan?”
“Just fine.” This was probably the best Christmas he’d ever had.
She smiled with the same wise eyes her daughter had inherited. “Thanks for taking my place back here.”
