Page 60 of The Perfect Deal

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Page 60 of The Perfect Deal

He laughed. “No, not on a day like this when the kids have so many activities ahead of them. We’re going fishing, remember?”

I nodded, that piece of information clicking into my memory. “Okay, so what are we going to do?”

He cleared his throat. “Wanna help me make breakfast?”

At first, I thought he was joking. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you make breakfast for over two hundred people. No problem.”

He continued to look at me, unblinking, until I realized he was serious.

“Shit, really? God, Joshua, you know I’ll help you, but I’m not a good cook. I can make scrambled eggs—”

“Perfect! You make the eggs, I’ll fry the bacon, and if we have time, we can whip up some of those blueberry muffins my mom used to make. I know the recipe. I’ll just need your help pouring them into the tins and getting them all in the oven. Sound like a plan?” His tone was the same one he used when he was coaching the kids, excited and ready to go.

“Well, who am I to argue with that?” A smile pulled up the corner of my mouth. “Go team.”

Joshua laughed and reached over to touch my arm for a moment, which was nice. “Thank you, Libby. I knew I could count on you.”

It was nice hearing him call me that nickname. “Let me go get dressed, and I’ll be right out.” He nodded in agreement, and I started to walk inside but paused before I opened the door. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Half past four,” he said, making me groan. His amused look didn’t falter.

After I was dressed and my hair was up in a bun, I came back out, thinking I probably looked like grim death, but I was happy to have the opportunity to help Joshua out. Besides, Karrie was still snoring away, and even with earplugs, I probably wouldn’t have been able to fall back to sleep easily.

The kitchen was pristine with everything put in its place. Joshua said he wasn’t surprised since Melba was such a professional. “If you can get the muffin tins out of that lower cabinet, I’ll start grabbing the ingredients. I think we should make them first, since they’ll need time to bake and cool.”

Rather than telling him I thought he was being ambitious in wanting to make something like three hundred large blueberry muffins and eggs and bacon, I did as he asked, and together the two of us started preparing breakfast.

As we worked, I asked an important question. “What about lunch? Are we going to have to make three hundred sandwiches, too?”

“Nope, I’ve got a backup team on the way,” he assured me, which had me sighing in relief. “But they won’t be here until closer to noon.”

“Got it.” Relief washed over me as I realized I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day in the kitchen.

Joshua and I worked well together, him mixing the muffins while I poured them into the containers and put them in the oven. He helped me make sure they didn’t burn, which I had a habit of doing sometimes even with a timer, and once they were all done and cooling, he moved to bacon while I started with the eggs.

I’d fully expected to see that egg concoction in the carton, but Joshua wrinkled his nose and said, “We don’t eat that shit here.”

Laughing, I started cracking real eggs. “It’s no wonder the scrambled eggs are so good here,” I noted as I made my first batch of yolk, cheese, and milk to pour into a giant pan. I’d have to be super careful not to burn this while I continued to crack eggs and make my second batch.

The sizzle of bacon had my stomach growling and my mouth watering. Joshua was handling all of that meat like a boss, even with it crackling and tossing grease in his direction. I smiled over at him, once again impressed with how he handled himself under pressure.

“This is nice,” he said as he set a batch of bacon over on some paper towels to drain. “I like doing stuff like this with you.”

Warmth flooded my face as I gave him a quick hip bump from my place behind the pan of eggs. “Yeah? I like it, too. Maybe one day we’ll get married and have two hundred children, and we can do it every day.”

Joshua’s rich laughter filled the kitchen. “Nah, I think I’ll stick to only being responsible for this many mouths at camp.” His eyes roamed over my face for a second before he said, “But I know you’ll be an excellent mother.”

Again, I felt heat rising in my cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the eggs. “Thanks. You’re going to be a great dad one day, too. I love how well you interact with the kids. It’s amazing.”

“Thank you.” He seemed genuinely flattered. “It’s the best part about my job. Well, now that you’re here, maybe second best.”

The eggs might’ve burned if he hadn’t stepped away from me just then to get more bacon out of the massive refrigerator behind him. I loved how candidly the two of us could speak to one another, but his compliments were beginning to make me want to push everything off the counter, jump up there, and pull him on top of me.

With a clearer head, I took the next batch of eggs, poured them into a silver warming container, and moved them beneath the lights on another counter. The sun was nearly up now, so we’d have to work quickly to get the food out to where the kids could fix their trays. In another half hour or so, they’d be pouring into the cafeteria, starving to death.

Stifling a yawn, I went back to make another batch of scrambled eggs while Joshua finished up the bacon. We’d also need to clean up the giant mess we’d made. Even though I’d tried to be careful, I’d still gotten egg all over the counter, and little specks of shell dotted the floor, amongst other random messes.

When all of the food was finally prepared, I fought through the exhaustion I was beginning to feel and helped Joshua carry the containers out to the bar, putting the extra containers below where they would stay warm and placing the serving spoons and tongs in the containers. Joshua grabbed clean trays and set them on the counter where the kids could grab them, and I set up the silverware. Thank goodness the kitchen staff had gotten everything cleaned before they got sick the night before.




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