“My hero.” I rose up and pecked a kiss to his jaw. Light stubble covered it, and my kiss turned into a nibble. “I kind of like this. Makes you even sexier.”
His nose crinkled with a smile.
Rowan stood from his chair and sauntered toward the counter, eyeing the mug I’d poured for him.
“Don’t ruin it with rum,” I told him.
“Rum enhances the flavor.” He flashed a half-cocked smile at my glare. Then he sniffed. “Is something burning?”
Crap.
“The cookies!” I rushed to the oven and yanked out the baking sheets. The tops of the cookies weren’t too dark, but as I carefully removed one, the charred bottom sealed their fate. “Oh no.”
Lake approached and peeked over Rowan’s head to look at them. His slight cringe spoke wonders.
“I burnt them.” I slumped against the counter and tucked my head in the crease of my arm. “Take them away. I can’t look.”
“They’re only slightly dark.” Briar neared my side and rubbed my back. “I’m sure they’re still delicious.”
“Slightly dark?” Rowan asked. “You need new glasses, Specs. They’re scorched—ow!”
Lake had whacked him with his tail.
“That’s enough abuse from you, pup,” Rowan grumbled at him. “Kicking me. Hitting me with your poofy tail.”
“Kicking you in my sleep was an accident.”
“Yeah, well, you can sleep on the rug tonight.”
Lake’s ears drooped.
The muscle in Rowan’s cheek jumped. “Gods, fine. I take it back. You can sleep in the bed.”
Our wolf smiled, then came over to nuzzle me. “Are you all right?”
“I think so. You know what they say. No use crying over spilled milk. Or burnt cookies.” I placed the batch of oatmeal raisin in the oven. “Just have to fix what you can, learn from your mistakes, and keep going. This concludes our segment of Life Lessons with the Muffin Lord.”
Lake released a rough laugh.
“And what lesson have you learned from this?” Rowan eyed the charred snickerdoodles.
“Don’t get distracted by a glasses-wearing hottie and his sexy collar bone when you should be paying attention to baking times.” I grinned at Briar.
His eyes widened a fraction. “You’re referring to me?”
“Do you see another hottie with glasses in this kitchen?”
When his nose crinkled again with a smile, an endearing blush in his cheeks accompanied it.
I hadn’t burned anything in the kitchen in forever. I blamed it on my scattered brain and the confusion over Lord Onyx. The man had me forgetting my own name. Pair that with my anxiety over our kiss, and I was a mess.
Hmm.If I was a saint with supposed purification powers, how hard could it be to save these cookies?
I went over and squatted at eye level with the lumps of char and sadness on the platter. “Listen here, snickerdoodles. You will become edible. Do you hear me?”
They didn’t hear me. The char remained.
Oh well.Maybe someday.
