No. I was used to being up and busy. It was no wonder my body had woken me up at six in the morning despite having slept the whole of yesterday away. It was my body’s clock at this point. Bake for three hours then go to work.
I glanced at the kitchen. It might not be mine, but it was calling me.
“Fine. I’ll answer it,” I mumbled and got up.
Lookah followed me to the kitchen. He probably thought I was playing chase with him, so I gave him a treat as a consolation prize and got to work.
Naturally there were a ton of blueberries in the freezer and more in the fridge. Thankfully there was also flour and sugar which I guess made sense considering Dare’s famous blueberry pies.
Try as I might, I couldn’t get them right, so I didn’t even attempt to make a pie. But I did make muffins with a lemon curd filling. As those baked, I made a banana batter, sprinkled some crushed blueberries and chocolate chips in it and poured it in bread pan and left it next to the oven so it could go in after the muffins were done.
I scratched my chin as I inspected the contents of the fridge, trying to quell the million ideas floating in my head.
I settled on blueberry cream cheese braids. It would take a while but seeing as I had nothing better to do, why not make dough?
By the time Dare got back, the kitchen island was full of treats. He walked up to me, goats running around in circles behind him and he stared at everything I made.
“What is all this?” he asked.
I froze.
Shit.
I looked at everything I’d baked to see it from his point-of-view and I cringed so hard.
“I…I think I went a little overboard. I’m sorry.”
There was enough food here to feed an army.
“I guess I’m so used to making huge quantities, habit took over.” I grimaced.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he looked up at me. “Do you think I’m mad?” He raised an eyebrow.
I chewed on my lip and shrugged.
“You probably needed all the blueberries. Oh god. You needed them didn’t you? Agh, I’m so silly.” I slapped my forehead, and he grabbed my wrist before I could do it again.
“Are you seriously worried the blueberry farmer will run out of blueberries?” he asked, a smirk appearing on his face.
I gazed into his dark blue eyes and forgot how to breathe for a second.
“You…” I started but had to refill my lungs before I continued. “You have more?”
His laugh was so deep it made my very bones vibrate with its energy and timbre.
“You do know I have freezers full of the stuff, right? How else would I make it through the winter?”
“Right,” I sighed. “But surely you need it for your clients.”
“You let me worry about that. I’m just…” he turned to look at my food, letting my hand go.
The absence of his touch made me feel…hollow.
“I’m amazed you went through all the trouble. That’s so much food and it all looks and smells delicious.”
I offered him a sheepish smile and looked down.
“Yeah, a little too much food,” I said. “Are you hungry? I also made a quiche. I thought you might be hungry after work.”
