Page 47 of Icing on Top

His forehead dropped down to mine.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he promised. “We’re a team now, yeah?”

I let his words sink in, chasing away some of those more negative thoughts in my head. Unlike Blake, Miah wouldn’t leave my side if he could help it. I knew it deep in my bones. And I would fight tooth and nail to stay by his. Life had taken enough away from me; I wouldn’t allow it to take any more.

My lips curved up under his thumb. “So, who’s the captain?”

Miah grinned as well and a light chuckle escaped as he shook his head.

“How about co-captains?”

I pretended to ponder his suggestion for just a second to make him sweat and then nodded in agreement. “Co-captains.”

He stole another kiss before dropping his hands to my hips. “Now that that’s settled, and I no longer feel like I’m going to throw up, what do you say we get started on these cookies?”

To say I was shocked when Miah had offered to help me make cookies to take to my aunt and uncle’s was an understatement. I’d figured after the cupcake icing fiasco, he’d be content to leave all the baking to me, but instead he’d insisted on joining. Add on that it gave us alone time together, and I wasn’t about to say no.

“I’ll mix the ingredients and you can roll the dough and place it on the cookie sheet.”

Miah nodded gravely. “Probably for the best.”

After a thorough handwashing, I got to work on making the cookie dough while Miah prepped a couple trays and preheated the oven. The routine motions of baking allowed those negative thoughts to fade even further, everything narrowing down to the bowl in front of me. Although, Miah watching me while leaning attractively against the counter was a little distracting.

“You’re cute when you’re focused.”

“What?”

Miah just grinned at me. “I said, you’re cute when you’re focused.” He gestured to the space between his eyebrows. “You get this little wrinkle between your brows. It happens all the time during Puffins games.”

My cheeks burned, and, for once, I wished my hair was down so I could hide behind it. Instead, I swirled the wooden spoon around the bowl two more times to make sure the dough was sufficiently mixed and then nudged the bowl across the counter to Miah.

“Quit staring at me and roll the dough.” There was no bite to my words. Just a terribly flustered excuse to have his attention directed elsewhere.

Thankfully, he gave in.

I supervised as he scooped out a decent clump of dough and began to roll it between his large palms. He hesitated, though, whenever he went to place it on one of the cookie sheets.

“Is that too big?”

While it was larger than I would normally go for, it would be fine as long as the cookies were spaced out enough. “Uncle Cal will never complain about a large cookie.”

“Neither would Charlie.”

Despite his words, he made the next ball smaller than the first.

I placed the tray of cookies in the oven and then turned to find Miah still standing where I’d left him, his hands held out like a surgeon pre-op. They were far from sanitary, though. He would never be allowed into the operating room with his cookie dough covered mitts.

He looked up at me helplessly. “How on earth am I supposed to get this off? I tried scraping it off with the spoon, but there’s still a layer of it.”

I couldn’t hide my amused smile as I joined him at the counter, taking his left wrist in my hand and lifting it. My eyes flicked up to his before I leaned forward, licking the dough off of his hand from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.

His Adam’s apple bobbed dramatically, and I could have sworn I heard him gulp. And, God, his eyes. I’d seen them turn golden in the sunlight, but I’d never seen them grow so dark; his pupils expanding until only the mahogany brown of his irises were left.

I straightened up. “Damn, those cookies are going to be delicious.”

“Zo,” he warned, his head tilting in the most adorable way. But there was nothing adorable about the look he gave me. Or rather, gave my mouth.

“Try some,” I encouraged him.