“This is my favorite part,” Ben told Grant. “Except for making frosting.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” As Grant accepted the whisk from Eliza, their fingers grazed, shooting a jolt of awareness up his arm. He jumped, flinging the whisk into the air, spraying globs of batter across the countertop. His face coloring, Grant snatched a kitchen towel to mop up the mess. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Eliza waved away his concern with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” Dampening a washcloth in the sink, she helped him clean up the splatter.
“Do I have to share mine now?” Ben asked, his tone willing, albeit disappointed.
Grant chuckled. “No, that one’s all yours. But I’ll have to be more careful when it’s time for the frosting.” He stole a glance at Eliza and caught her watching him. Had she felt the same spark he had?
Eliza returned her gaze to the speckled countertop, her cheeks noticeably rosier. “Speaking of frosting, you guys go ahead and get started while I finish cleaning up.”
“You got it.” Grant straightened and surveyed the ingredients spread around the kitchen. “Frosting… frosting…”
Eliza raised one eyebrow and paired it with a smirk. “Did you forget how to make it?”
“Not exactly. I remember that it involves copious amounts of sugar. And… lard? Lard’s a thing, right?”
Shaking her head, Eliza laughed. “There’s a recipe in the cookbook.”
“We need butter. Right, Mom?”
“Yep. Lots of butter.”
“Okay, that settles it.” Grant gave a definitive nod. “Ben, you’re in charge of assembling the ingredients. I’ll start mashing the butter. With this, right?” He plucked a meat mallet from the utensil holder and waved it around for comic effect.
Eliza slapped her forehead, but Ben bubbled over with laughter.
“He’s worse at baking than Aunt Cassie!”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Grant winked.
As Grant and Ben worked together on the frosting, Eliza moved to the stack of dishes in the sink. But Grant noticed her sneak glances at the two of them together, and he couldn’t tell if her expression was pleased or… pensive.
“All right.” Grant directed his attention back to Ben. “After I add the vanilla, what’s next?”
“Um…” Ben leaned over the cookbook, his forehead scrunched as he squinted in concentration. “The milk.”
“How much?”
The tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, Ben traced a finger across the page. “Two tablespoons.”
“Great. Thanks.” As Grant measured the milk, he cast a sideways glance at Ben, a thought niggling at the back of his mind.
No…it was probably nothing.
Chapter 20
Things with Grant were going well. Almosttoowell.
Eliza had spent the entire morning at the bake sale reminiscing about the night before. Although they’d been crammed into a small kitchen, they’d fit together perfectly. Like a three layer cake.
On the car ride home from school, Ben couldn’t stop babbling excitedly about Grant, wondering when they could hang out and paint again.
As though he knew they were talking about him, a text from Grant pinged Eliza’s cell phone the moment they pulled into the driveway.
I found some of my old art supplies from high school and thought I’d pass them along to Ben. Mind if I bring them by this afternoon?
Her stomach flipped as she reread the text. Grant was becoming increasingly more enmeshed in their lives. And if Eliza allowed it to continue, she would have to tell him everything. But at what cost?
