“The whole bag, of course.”
“Yeah, these are not healthy.”
“They are healthy enough. Mix, old man, mix.”
Harlow rolled his eyes as he lowered the beaters into the bowl and flicked the mixer back on.
The rest of the bag, and two and a half more cups of oats later, and he was standing there hand mixing the damn dough. What the hell had his life become? Turning into fucking Betty Crocker.
“Put more strength behind it! Show that dough who’s boss! USE THOSE MUSCLES!” Foxx cheered, getting rowdier by the second.
Harlow stopped and stared at the vampire. “Either you stop or I stop.”
Foxx smirked mischievously. “You can stop, it’s ready anyway.”
“Why the hell was I still mixing it then?”
“I like to watch your muscles move.”
Harlow glared. “Your ass is toast the minute you are healthy.”
Foxx giggled. “You act like that’s a threat, old man. Bring it.”
“You won’t be saying that when it hurts to sit.”
“Probably not, but I’ll certainly enjoy how I ended up there.”
He snorted. “Brat.”
* * *
The bread maker dinged.“It’s READY!” Foxx cried with excitement. Jumping up from the couch, he winced. “Ow.”
“Idiot.”
“Shhh!” He shushed him and rushed…slowly…into the kitchen with a giggle. Flipping the lid up, he smiled at the golden brown top of the bread, and took a deep breath—ahh fresh bread!
Grabbing a pot holder, he fished the handle up with a spoon and moved to lift it out, only to hiss as the angle caused a painful pulling sensation in his chest.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me do it before you hurt yourself,” Harlow said gruffly, as he walked over and nudged him out of the way. Snagging the pot holder from his hand, the human yanked the metal bread box out.
Foxx picked up another pot holder and held it out. “You have to turn it over and shake the bread out.”
Harlow grabbed it and did just that.
“Ahh, look at it. It’s perfect!” Foxx giggled.
“Get whatever you want to put on it and sit down,” the human ordered before pulling a large bread knife from the nearby knife block.
Foxx rushed over to the fridge, grabbed the butter and then pulled out the honey from one of the cabinets before sitting down at the dining table and waiting.
Harlow carried over two plates with two slices on them each, along with a knife, setting one in front of him. The bread was steaming.
Licking his lips, he buttered a piece up and took a bite. Foxx moaned at the taste. “Mmm, fresh bread.”
Harlow chuckled as he spread a ridiculously small bit of butter on one piece before taking a bite. The man’s eyes closed, expression turning almost…serene.
Foxx giggled. “You really like bread, don’t you?”
