Page 12 of Nailing Studs
I stared in the mirror for a moment more, studying my features. The hazel eyes I’d inherited from my mother lookedtired this morning, but my skin glowed, even though yes, my face appeared a little rounder than a year before, as Grant had so graciously pointed out.
In retrospect, gaining those ten pounds had been totally worth it. I’d been able to try delicious foods at restaurants around the city at the company’s expense, and I’d been able to create amazing dishes and desserts by following reader recipes. Best of all, those pounds had helped me get rid of Grant.
Yeah, Grant’s betrayal still hurt, probably my pride more than anything else, but good riddance to anyone who couldn’t love me for who I was.
Thinking about food gave me an idea. Before trying to figure out the rest of my life, I needed to de-stress. My favorite way to do that was to bake.
I headed downstairs to the kitchen to see what I could make with what I’d bought and what was left in Tabitha’s kitchen. The guys were nowhere to be found, but they hadn’t said goodbye and their truck with their gorgeous faces on it still sat in my driveway. After hearing a few banging noises outside, I realized they were evaluating the exterior of the house. While Taylor and Dom continued their work, I’d play around in the kitchen and bake up something yummy, the way Taylor had suggested on the phone.
Hmm, let’s see, what to make? It was summer, and here I was in a quaint little town, so what better dessert to whip up than a light and airy angel food cake with a lemon drizzle? Was Tabitha’s old angel food cake pan still in the cupboard? Yep! Next I opened the fridge and pulled out the dozen eggs I’d bought yesterday, then rummaged around in Tabitha’s pantry, searching for cake flour, cream of tartar, and superfine sugar. Check, check, check.
I zested the lemons I’d bought yesterday and prepared the meringue, humming as I worked. Immediately, all my tension and stress melted away. After carefully sifting andthen folding the flour into the meringue, a quarter-cup at a time, I placed the whole thing in the oven. Hopping up onto the counter with a notepad and pencil, I started creating that To-Do list I’d promised myself I would write.
Twenty minutes later I sat staring blankly at my meager list when Taylor strode into the kitchen. He paused and sniffed the air. “I came in to tell you we’d be about a half hour longer, but good god, what’s that delicious smell?”
“Lemon angel food cake.”
“Damn, girl. Hope I get to sample that.” Big, gorgeous smile.
How I’d love to sample him, I thought. But no! No, Kayla. You are not here to put the Fix-It Guys in your mouth—that is why you are making yourself a consolation prize of lemon cake.
“What if I was making it for someone else?” I asked playfully, glad he wasn’t bringing up my little sparring session with Dom earlier or how I’d retreated so abruptly to my room.
“I’d bea horse’s ass and beg you to make one for me. You want a good quote on the repairs, don’t you?” He quickly added, “Kidding, of course,” and gave me a wink.
I rolled my eyes so he wouldn’t think I found him charming.
Which I did. Find him charming, that is. Excessively so.
Taylor didn’t wait for a reply, but instead headed back outside.
I called out after him, “Cake should be done in a half hour.”
“I’ll be outside, drooling,” he hollered back.
Just like me, only for an entirely different reason.
A while later, I pulled the cake out of the oven and set it upside down on a cooling rack, still in its baking pan the way they do in that adorable British baking show. As it cooled, Imade the lemon glaze to go on top. I wished I had my pretty cake stand to put it on, but my stuff was still in boxes on a moving van, which would hopefully arrive soon. I set it on one of Tabitha’s cheerful Fiestaware dinner plates instead and drizzled the glaze over the top.
“Wow, that sure looks good, doesn’t it, Dom? Smells delicious, too.”
I whirled around to find Taylor leaning against the door jamb, with Dom rightbehind him, arms folded over his chest. And I was positive by the way Taylor was looking at me that he wasn’t referring to the cake. He was talking about me, as if my simple jeans and tee were the equivalent of a GNO dress.
His gaze made me shiver.
Dominic replied with, “Yes. Very good.” The man still had his arms crossed tightly and a scowl on his face, but he did seem to be sniffing the air. I swear, one bite of this cake would take the pissy attitude right out of that man.
“Would you two like a slice?”
“Thought you said it wasn’t for us,” Taylor said, grinning.
“I was kidding. Actually, it’s for me, because I like baking. Helps me relax. But you’re reaping the benefits since you’re here.” I cut two slices and passed them over on small mismatched plates I’d found in Tabitha’s cupboards, then handed the men paper napkins.
Now came the best part, seeing Taylor and Dom’s reactions. Both closed their eyes. Both groaned as the cake hit their tongues. Both opened their eyes. Each of their gazes, Taylor’s blue and Dom’s brown, burned into me, as though they wanted to toss the rest of their dessert aside—as if!—and eat me up.
Taylor’s smile broadened. “Holy…this is the most delicious cake I’ve ever had, Kayla.”
“Thanks.” I looked at Dom and gave him a pert smile. “How about you? Still hate me?”