“And we have two more sections to roll out and cut.”
“Ah, crap.”
Alistair went on to show Noah how to take the pasta noodles and twist them into little nests that they set in the sheet pan for later. He guided Noah’s hands with the rolling pin and the knife, making sure each cut was nearly laser precise.
Noah liked how close Alistair was to him right now, and his heart skipped over itself when Alistair nuzzled the back of his neck
“That’s the last one,” Alistair said, placing a kiss below Noah’s ear. “Make it into a little nest like the others, and then we just have to let them dry—”
There was a noise at the doorway, and Noah looked up to see an unfamiliar face.
“Hi!” It was a woman with a short grey mohawk carrying a large foil tray. Despite her hair, her face was quite youthful. Her arms and hands were covered in colorful tattoos, and she was dressed casually in jeans and a tank top.
Noah didn’t see any guns or anything gangster-like, but he had no idea who this person was. “Uh, hi?”
“Ah! Scout.” Alistair smiled and approached her, taking the tray and kissing her cheek.
“Hey, Alistair!” She grinned. “How’s my favorite businessman?”
“Doing well, thank you.” Alistair carried the tray to the fridge. “And yourself?”
“Good, good! I snuck in through the patio so Roger wouldn’t see me. The second he knows that tiramisu is in there, it’s over with.”
“I’m well aware of the power your baking holds over Mr. Lorre.” Alistair turned to Noah. “Noah, this is Scout Collins, Crybaby’s partner and a master pastry chef.”
“Also dog groomer, rat breeder, butcher, and a whole bunch of other things,” she chimed in, laughing as she offered out her hand to shake Noah’s. “It’s nice to meet you!”
“Uh, hello!” Noah was surprised. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.”
Scout seemed sonormal. It was a little surreal after having met gangsters, assassins, and criminals all week long.
“How is everybody doing? One big happy family?” Scout grinned slyly. “Mickey and Roger gotten into any fights yet?”
“Only a minor spat at best,” Alistair replied. “I do suppose we should consider having an early dinner.”
“Oh, totally,” Scout agreed.
“Why?” Noah asked with a frown.
“Because once Roger finds out that Scout’s tiramisu is here, there is nothing short of an act of God that will keep him from it,” Alistair explained.
After tidying up the kitchen again and informing Frida to use the pasta Noah made for dinner, Alistair took Noah upstairs to get ready. Scout had assured them she could help with the meal and told them to take their time.
Noah was again struck by how non-murderous Scout was. She was bright, cheerful, and it was hard to imagine her being with a tough lady like Crybaby. It was actually adorable to see how Crybaby lit up when she saw her in the kitchen, and Noah didn’t think he’d ever seen Crybaby actually smile before that moment.
Then again, maybe opposites really did attract.
Or something. Whatever.
Alistair told Crybaby she could stay with Scout to guard the dessert and that he would be fine on his own.
Any desire Noah once had to escape was long gone. He didn’t even miss his phone to be honest, a device he had been attached to for years. It was strange to feel so disconnected from the rest of the world, but he was pretty happy in the little bubble Alistair had created for him.
He was starting to like how Alistair picked out his clothes for him, and he didn’t even care their outfits matched. He actually thought it was sort of cute.
Alistair selected a rich scarlet brocade jacket, white shirt, and tailored black pants. His dress shoes were a deep red leather, and he left his shirt open to show off his chest and glittering necklaces. He had rings to match, as always, and he looked incredibly handsome.
For Noah, it was a sharp red suit he’d forgotten he even owned with a black shirt, red tie, and black Converse sneakers that had still been new in the box.
