“Why are you here?” I ask.
“School.”
“What school?”
“Baking 101. I signed up.” He gives me a flirty smile.
“Are you serious? It’s for kids, Ryker. Not adults.”
“I gathered that. But I read the fine print—well, there was no fine print—and there weren’t any age restrictions. Anyway, you won’t let me take you on a date. So I’m gonna keep coming to you. Every day, if I have to.”
Shit.
He’s winning.
My lips pursed and my hands on my hips, I stand there staring at him. Then I mutter, “Aren’t you mad at me? The way you stormed out of here last night, I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
“It’ll take a lot more than that to keep me from you, future wife.” He turns his flirty smile rakish and says, “I was frustrated, but I’m not one to give up. And you and me? This thing we have? We both know there’s something going on between us… and that kiss was amazing. You’ve got a lot on your plate. I understand. So, if I’ve got to carry the load for the two of us for a while, then so be it. Here I am.”
My heart and my brain play tug-of-war with the reins, pulling in opposite directions, and it’s making me dizzy.
“Did you really sign up for the class?”
“Sure did.” He smirks, proud as a lion. “You’ll see my name on your registration as RM.”
I hadn’t even looked at the list. I figured my regulars would be here. They always are. I take five kids at a time, and the same four always come. Sometimes the fifth spot is empty, and other times, we get a new kid. They’re all my little buddies, and their moms love that they can drop the kids off for a couple of hours, knowing they’ll learn something about the kitchen and get a babysitter out of it. Plus, they get to eat whatever we bake. It’s a pleasant distraction from my busy life. Sometimes they’re a handful, but they make me laugh.
“Well, this should be interesting,” I sigh. “Fine. Make yourself useful, and help me get the classroom set up.” I head into the kitchen, a smile spreading on my lips.
17
Aspen
“MS. ASPEN!” I hear two kids scream my name as they run through the door of the bistro. I walk out of the kitchen and wipe my hands on my apron as they slam into me with huge hugs. Sam and Tanner, my two regular boys, ages seven and eight, are the first to arrive for class.
“Hey, guys! How are you?” I hug them back, ruffling their towheads of hair.
“Great!” they both say in unison. “Hey, Ms. Aspen, look what Mom bought us!” Sam says, and they each pull out a creepy-looking Baby Yoda toy figurine.
“Wowwww!” I drawl, emphasizing my excitement for them. “That’s, um… super neat!”
Then, just as fast, show-and-tell is over. They run over to the counter and climb onto two stools and start spinning on them, while we wait for the rest of the kids to arrive.
The boys entertain themselves, so I go back in the kitchen and finish getting ingredients and supplies ready for class. I also grab my phone and check the registration, and sure enough, there’s Ryker’s $20 payment and registration. I chuckle and shake my head in resignation.
As I take the tray of ingredients out to the counter in the dining room where the two boys are playing, the front door opens, and two little girls, both age seven, scamper inside, giggling. They carpool because they’re best friends. “Hi, Ms. Aspen!” they screech. Who needs coffee with a wake-up call like that?
“Hey girls, how are you?” I ask as I set the tray on the counter.
They each fill me in on the latest in their lives, speaking extra loudly when I head into the kitchen, to make sure I don’t miss a thing. I keep up with the story by injecting the right number of uh-huh’s and oh’s!
I come back out and stand by the counter, almost ready to start the class. “Attention everyone! Guess what? I’m excited to tell you that we have a new student today!”
“Who? Where?” Sam asks, looking around.
“Could you please give a warm welcome to Ryker?” I say, and Ryker comes out of the kitchen wearing an apron. He saunters up to a stool next to Tanner. He must think he’ll side with the boys.
But Tanner doesn’t seem pleased, and he looks at me and says, “Who’s this fella?” I hold back my giggle and say, “Tanner, that’s Ryker. And, Ryker, that’s Tanner you’re sitting next to. And next to Tanner is Sam. And then down the line, you have Rachel, and Shane on the end.”
He turns to face the row of kids, all smiling, except for Tanner, and he says, “Hey kids, nice to meet you.”
Tanner looks back at Ryker and narrows his eyes at him before saying in his best gangster voice. “S’up.”
“Ryker is new to baking,” I tell the class, “so maybe you kids can help him if he gets stuck, all right?” They all bust into giggles. Except Tanner.
I continue, “OK. Today we’re making sugar cookies with yummy lemon icing. We’ll use cookie cutters! And trust me when I say, these cookies are addictive. I even brought my special drawstring shorts to wear.” I pull them out from under the counter, and dangling them in the air, I add, “Because I know I’m gonna have a full belly when I gobble them all up like Cookie Monster!”
All the kids giggle again, but when I look over at Ryker, he pins me with his fiery eyes, and it heats me from across the counter. I swallow.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
We are not going down that road.
We make the dough, telling jokes and sharing
