A thought occurred to him, and he dashed up the stairs to the bathroom. With all the noise Dean had made, plus the sight of that enormous hammer and wrench… Paul wanted to assure himself Dean hadn’t caused more damage. One look at theshower alleviated his fears. No dings or marks in sight, thank God, which made it all the more intriguing.
What was he up to in here?He gave himself a quick shake.Never mind Dean. Now it’s time for fun stuff.
He opened the library door and let out an exaggerated sigh. “He’s gone and we still have a dripping shower, unfortunately.”
Adam scowled. “Damn. Okay, get out the Yellow Pages and find us a plumber. We probably won’t get one until Monday: plumbers who work weekends are like hens’ teeth.”
Paul snorted. “Never mind the Yellow Pages, I’ll call Taylor. He’ll have a better idea of who to recommend.” That could wait until after his surprise.
“Good thinking.” Adam laid aside his headphones and recorder, and pushed out a contented sigh. “I think I might have an idea for a new book.”
“That’s wonderful!” Paul came over to the table to collect the empty mug. “What?”
Adam rose to his feet and followed the cord from the headphones back to the music system behind his chair. “I want to write about the Taliban.”
Paul thought it was a great idea. “Do you need me to do anything?”
Adam smiled. “Thanks to that software, I’m happy to say no. I’ll need to conduct some more research before I can start making notes. Besides, you have enough on your plate. Don’t you have a book to type up?”
Adam had given him the manuscript he’d been working on before his diagnosis.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Paul said with a chuckle. “No book talk today. You need to come with me into the kitchen. It’s surprise time.” He’d ensured they had everything they’d need: the previous day’s shopping trip into Newport had seen to that.
Adam followed him into the kitchen. While he held onto the cane, it was obvious he was trying not to rely on it. It gladdened Paul’s heart. Slowly but surely, Adam was becoming accustomed to finding his way around his home.
Adam walked over to the kitchen table and leaned on the back of a chair.
“Want to tell me what you’re up to now?”
“We’re going to make a birthday cake.”
Adam tilted his head to one side. “We?”
“Yup.” Paul grinned. “You’re going to help me.”
There was a moment’s silence. That fluttery feeling in the pit of Paul’s stomach was back.
“What flavour?”
Paul wanted to fist-pump the air. “Chocolate. With cream in the middle. And icing, made with dark chocolate.”
The slow, sexy smile on Adam’s face made Paul’s insides all quivery. “Enough. You had me with the first mention of chocolate.” He nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this. Where do you want me?”
Paul had to bite his tongue not to say the first thing that came into his head.
Wherever I can get you.
“Sit down while I get all the ingredients out.” Adam complied, and Paul poured him a mug of coffee from the machine. “Here, it’ll give you something to keep you occupied while I’m doing it.”
Adam snorted. “You’re edging closer to that spanking, you know that?” He sipped his drink.
Paul had the recipe printed out and kept consulting it as he pulled diverse ingredients from cupboards and the fridge. The two new cake tins had been washed and dried and were sitting on the worktop. It was a good thing Paul had checked the previous day: there wasn’t a single tin in the house.
Caroline probably took them. Most likely she makes cakes for her tea shop.
“I thought it would make things easier if I weighed everything out first,” he told Adam.
“Don’t I get to help with that?”
