A Maverick Under The Mistletoe by Brenda Harlen

Author:Brenda Harlen [Harlen, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-11-18T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Paige had borrowed some aprons from the supply that Willa kept for her kindergarten class, and she made sure the boys were washed up and their clothes covered before she let them loose in the kitchen. She’d actually started baking the night before, making a couple dozen gingerbread cookies for Sutter’s nephews to decorate. Those were in a plastic container in the cupboard, in reserve for when the boys got bored or tired of helping.

Robbie was, of course, totally enthused. He was on his knees on a stool at the island, digging a measuring cup into the bag of flour before Paige even had a chance to ask them what they wanted to make first. Jake headed straight for the bowl of minimarshmallows and immediately set about trying to figure out how many of them he could cram into his mouth. When he finally stopped gagging, he was thirsty from all the sugar, so Paige got him a glass of milk. Robbie decided that he needed a drink, too, but he wanted juice.

Ryder declined her offer of milk or juice with a polite, “No, thank you,” then stood in the background, quietly waiting for instructions. She could tell that helping to bake cookies wouldn’t make his top-ten list of favorite things to do—heck, it probably wouldn’t make a list of the top one hundred—but he didn’t protest.

She decided to put Ryder in charge of measuring the liquid ingredients because he was patient and meticulous and less likely to spill anything. Jake was assigned the task of measuring the dry ingredients, and Robbie got to wield the spoon and mix everything together.

“I thought you were going to help with this,” Paige said to Sutter, who seemed content to stand back and watch the sloppily choreographed chaos in the kitchen.

“Absolutely,” he agreed. “But my job doesn’t start until the first batch comes out of the oven.”

“What’s your job?” Jake asked.

“Quality control.”

“What’s that?” Robbie wanted to know.

“It’s a fancy term for someone who eats the cookies under the pretense of testing to see if they taste good,” Paige informed him.

“I wanna be quality control,” Robbie decided.

“Me, too,” Jake agreed.

“Everyone will get to sample the cookies,” she promised. “But we need to make them first.”

* * *

They made a lot of cookies. And when they’d done as much as they could do, Paige got out the gingerbread cookies and various colored icings and decorations. The boys were each given half a dozen gingerbread cookies to decorate however they wanted. Ryder went heavy on the black icing, claiming that he was making ninja gingerbread men. Jake was more interested in eating than decorating. Robbie liked the colored sugars and holiday sprinkles and his philosophy was the more the merrier.

True to his word, Sutter worked quality control, sampling at least one of everything. But Paige didn’t mind, because he didn’t hesitate to lend a hand wherever it was required. He stood at the stove and melted marshmallows for the crisp-rice squares, dutifully chopped pecans for the thumbprint cookies and unwrapped dozens of caramels for the caramel nut bars.

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