Page 56
“Maybe you shouldn’t think so hard, because you look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” Rhett rubs his hands together. “Now, where were we?”
“I’ll get the cookies and you ice them.”
“Sounds good.”
I align a crescent-shaped cookie with a circular sun cookie. They match perfectly, which means at least I’ve done this part of my job right.
We’re supposed to attach the cookies using the yellow icing, which Rhett has. As he gets to attaching, I grab the bag of white icing and start to follow behind him.
“You missed a spot,” I say, pointing to an empty patch on a cookie.
“Where?”
“Right there.”
“Where? I don’t see it.”
He’s looking at the cookie, so he can’t miss it. He’s just messing with me. Annoyed that other couples are beginning to look like a cohesive unit and frustrated that Rhett’s so damn handsome and charming, I pipe a bead of white icing onto my finger and swipe it over the back of his hand.
“There. That’s the spot you missed.”
His whole face brightens. “Oh, is that how we’re gonna play this?”
“You were the one who couldn’t see. I’m just helping you out.”
“Let me help you out, too.”
He pipes yellow frosting directly onto my nose. My jaw falls. “Why you—”
I pipe frosting onto his cheek.
“I’ve got more where that came from.”
He holds up the piping bag, aiming for my hair. There’s no way I’m gonna let him do that. I just washed my hair today, and it takes a full hour to dry and straighten it.
I run around our workspace, putting the baking counter between us.
“Guess what?”
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t need icing to get you.”
He picks up a handful of flour and tosses it at me. It hits me smack in the chest.
“You didn’t!” I screech, staring down at my white chest.
“I did,” he replies with a sadistic laugh. “What are you gonna do about it now?”
“I’ll show you.”
I grab a handful of flour and run at him. Rhett’s fast, with long legs—how have I never noticed how fast he is before?
I toss flour at him, but it barely grazes his back. He whips around.
