Page 46 of Holly Jolly Cake Fight
It felt like the way a man who loved his woman and had an intimate relationship with her would touch her thoughtlessly, a natural act of comfort and support, unity.
Her eyes locked onto Laurin’s, and she was suspended in his soft green gaze for a heavy moment. Comfort, unity, and support, yes, but not of a platonic teammate, and she allowed herself one indulgent flash of fantasy of what could have been if she wasn’t her and he wasn’t him and this wasn’t the set of a prime-time baking competition.
Laurin cleared his throat and said, “Yeah,” breaking the moment as he needed to. He snapped his head back up to the rest of the table and explained, “Once it cooled, I heated itagain, just enough that I could put this twist in and give it three dimensions.”
“What about the orbs?” Roger asked.
“That’s blown sugar. It’s done the same way as blowing glass.”
“You should have seen the birds he made for cake week,” Kate said, mindful that though it had only been a few days ago, the episodes would air a week apart. “Really amazing work.”
“Thanks,” Laurin said quickly, not pausing long enough for Kate to really gush over them, even though Candace could tell she would have kept going. “I didn’t have the time to go fancy, so I made the big ones and draped them along the shards, and then I made the smaller bubbles to cover the base. The leftovers I used in the miniatures on your place settings. The glasses are just glass,” he said with a shrug, but no one could have faulted him for using actual martini glasses. They’d found a case clearanced out for under ten dollars in the wedding aisle.
“The poinsettias,” Georgette prompted as she reached out to grab one, then backed away in case they were fragile. “Are they . . .?”
“Sugar.”
“The marbling is so cool,” Candace murmured. He had taken the lighter, opaque cane and twisted it with the darker cane enough times to create the spotted effect of poinsettias when he pressed it into the mold. He’d even made the cameraman get him some isomalt and made tiny yellow gemstones for the center.
He took the poinsettia Georgette had reached for and eased the five petals off the base, handing one to everyone seated withhim. Kate busted out a laugh when she held it under her nose. “It’s a peppermint!”
“Oh, that’s clever,” Roger said.
“Shouldn’t we save them for after appetizers?” Jannie suggested.
Laurin shrugged and picked up a plate of treats. “Well, there are more poinsettias where that came from. Care for a cranberry brie canape?”
Dinner was nearly done. All that was left was some stirring and the occasional basting. The croissants would need to go in, but not for another hour.
“We should spy on everyone,” Laurin suggested, dropping his voice into a low, conspiratorial tone even though the cameraman had wandered off to snack on the leftovers at the table.
Candace chuckled. “We can’t leave. Knowing my luck, a pot will boil over and catch a spoon on fire and burn the whole cabin down. Try this. What’s missing from it?”
She dug out a little taste of her cranberry relish, which was only similar to the stuff in a can in that they both had the word cranberry in the name. Although the deep burgundy cranberry juice had stained all of its ingredients, Laurin could still identify chunks of pineapple, mango, and fig in it. He almost reached for the spoon, but then she brought it near to her own lips, blew on it gently to cool it, and lifted it up to Laurin’s mouth.
He tried to focus on the relish she fed him, but her eyes had gone wide and her breath had stilled in expectation, and they both froze longer than anyone would have needed to taste the relish.
Laurin screwed his face up when she lowered the spoon, and he realized he couldn’t remember the flavor, only the aftertaste that still lingered. “Can I try a little more?”
She nodded and repeated the motions. He let it roll around on the tongue, and was Candace watching his lips as he worked the relish? He thought she was.
It was one of those perfect moments to steal a kiss. The way their attention was drawn to each other’s mouths was halfway to a kiss already. Laurin needed only to take it.
He didn’t. He’d stolen too many of them already, and he’d savor the memory of each one, but he didn’t think the next one would satisfy him. He didn’t think it would satisfy her, either. No, it was better not to get distracted until the challenge was over. “Is that your recipe?”
“Yeah. I always wanted to try cranberry sauce when I was a kid, just because it was all wiggly and one of my friends said it popped out in the shape of the can. When I finally got to try it as an adult, it was . . . well, you know. So I made it better.”
Laurin tried one last bit of it. “Is that nutmeg?”
“Clove.”
He spun back to the fridge and returned with a squeeze bottle of ginger, which he pushed just a dollop out of and into the pot.
“Oh, holy cow,” Candace gasped as she inspected the dollop before stirring it in. “Why did I never think of ginger?”
Laurin smiled. “I’m always thinking about ginger. Can’t get enough of it. Try it now.”
Candace’s eyes rolled back with pleasure at her taste. “Mmmm. That’s perfect. You deserve to win this for sure.”
