AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes and don’t worry—I always use the right amount of pressure,” I said in a teasing, husky voice.
Delaney clucked, giggling softly. “I’ll bet. Now that the dough’s rolled out, we transfer it to the pie plate. It’s on parchment, so we just drag it over slowly and drop it in.” She inched the parchment over to the glass plate, carefully dropping it into the plate.
“Now, we trim any excess dough with the shears. There’s not much because I have a good sense of how big to make the rounds, but go ahead.” She handed me a pair of scissors, and I cut the extra dough off.
“Next up: the filling. This one is going to be apple, so I hope you like chopping.”
“That, I can do,” I said, grabbing the knife she handed me.
“Apples are washed, they just need to be peeled and cut. Then I’ll add some sugar.”
“Got it.”
I peeled and cut the apples while Delaney rolled out more dough. She moved quickly and gracefully around the kitchen, like a dancer performing a familiar routine. In contrast, I was clumsy and slow with the knife, barely getting the job done.
To be fair, I was distracted by her. Every time she came close to me, her lemony-vanilla scent filled my nose and I flashed back to last night, her back up against the wall, her naked body smooth and warm against me. It was all I could do to stand there and mundanely chop apples when I really wanted to take her hair out of that bun, lift her onto the counter, and...
“You almost done? Quinn?”
Delaney stood in front of me, waving her hand in front of my face.
“Hmm? Yeah. Is this enough?”
“Looks good. Thanks.” She grabbed the bowl of apples and sprinkled sugar, salt, and cinnamon over them.
“Okay, now we dump them into the pie pan and lay the top crust over the filling. I rolled it out already, while you were chopping apples.”
She covered the apples with another layer of dough, placing it down gently, like a mother tucking a child in at night.
“Now we crimp. That just means we pinch the sides together to seal the pie. Here.” She laid her hand on mine, guiding it over the pie crust, pinching and shaping the dough, our fingers intertwined. Her hands were small and soft, sliding and dancing gracefully over the pie edges. Two minutes later, the pie was crimped.
“Here’s a knife for venting. You do the honors.” She handed me a knife, pointing to all the spots where I needed to make cuts.
“Perfect. It’s ready for the oven. One down.” She glanced over at the counter, taking inventory of the already-baked pies. “Twenty-two more to go.”
“Seriously?” I asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yep.” She dusted her hands on her apron, grabbing the pie and popping it into the oven. “Good thing I have you for several more hours. We have a lot of work to do. And all this is just Thanksgiving prep. After Wednesday, we’ll be moving straight into Christmas mode.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.
“Okay, whatever you say, Boss. But on one condition.”
She tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at me. “And what would that be? No welching on our bet.”
“No, I’ll make good on it. But after we’re done with the pies, you’re mine.”
She gazed at me, her eyes darkening under her lashes. “Fine. Deal. I really need to get these pies done. But after that, I’m all yours.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she bit down on her lip.
“I like the sound of that,” I said in a low voice, stepping in close to her. Desire shot through me, my body tense with need, as I leaned down, my lips against her ear. “Now let’s bake some pies.”
8
Quinn
Delaney waved good-bye to Mars as she flipped the sign on the door toClosedand cut the overhead lights.
“So does this officially signal that we’re all square now?” I asked, sidling up behind her.
“Yes, I suppose we’re even.”
