“And how are you holding up?”
Damon pulls the cork out and pours a generous glass for each of us.
“Just waiting for Stephan’s lawyer to come back to Blackthorn Falls so we can get the paperwork out of the way,” I reply. “He’s on holiday with his family.”
“Well, in the meantime, you’ve got us to keep you entertained,” Damon quips and raises his glass.
I clink it and laugh, then take a slow sip. “You certainly know how to do that. And I have to say, this is a very good wine.”
“Ladybird. Australian,” he says.
“What are you baking?” Carter asks, flipping through the recipe book.
“Chocolate chip cookies with peanut butter and roasted hazelnuts.”
He chuckles. “Damn. The little man has fine taste.”
In terms of Matty’s tastes, they do resemble Carter’s. My heart races at the thought of someday telling him the truth. I could do it right now. It would only take a few words. But my courage eludes me, so I set the thought aside.
“What do you need for this?” Carter asks.
“Why?”
“I would like to help.”
I give him a confused frown. “You want to help me bake cookies for my son?”
“Is that a crime?”
Damon grins, holding the wineglass up to his lips. “This is happening, Clara, whether you planned for it or not. You might as well relax and go with the flow.”
“Way to sell me on it,” I reply and ultimately concede. “Fine. Get me the flour, the sugar, and the baking soda. I’ll handle the wet ingredients.”
“Baking soda for chocolate chip cookies?” Carter sounds conflicted.
“Just a pinch, not much,” I reassure him. “Matty likes them chewy, but I need the baking soda to stabilize the dough before I put it in the oven. His stomach can be iffy sometimes.”
Damon moves behind me to get to the fridge. “What other ingredients do you need? Milk? Butter?”
“Just butter, thank you,” I reply, remaining still as his hand gently brushes over my back, sending playful shivers down my spine.
I manage to focus long enough to remember where the stainless steel mixing bowls are kept, my robe coming loose as I reach for them. Carter approaches, leaving the flour, sugar, and baking soda containers on the counter. I hold my breath.
“Here, let me get that for you,” he says as he tugs the robe tighter around my waist, fastening the belt into a firm knot.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“It’ll come off later, don’t thank me yet.”
I look up in surprise to see a devilish glimmer in his gray-blue eyes. The invitation lingers on his lips as they stretch into a lazy grin.
Damon’s hands brush mine while he sets the butter on the counter. My heart trips. His eyes flick to my lips, then to the exposed skin of my neckline. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. I feel the intention in every movement.
“Where’s Jace?” I ask.
“We had an emergency with one of our local clients. He’s handling it,” Damon explains. “But I’ll let him know you asked about him and said it would’ve been nice if he could’ve joined us.”
“But I didn’t—” I start to say but Carter leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek.
