“And we see why you’re the professional.”
I giggle and shake my head as I dump the ingredients for more fresh dough into the mixer. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“Will do, boss lady.”
I can’t help but to peek over my shoulder every once in a while, just to check on Knox and see how he’s doing. The timer goes off, but when I look over at him he’s still got some dough on his hands. He flours the surface once more, his forearms flexing as he kneads the dough with both fists.
He’s staring at it like he’s got something to prove, too.
“Why are you glaring at it?” I ask.
“I’m not glaring,” he says as he punches the dough with his hand. I watch it deflate as he checks his fist. “I’m focusing.”
I can’t help but smile. “You’re definitely glaring. What did that dough ever do to you?”
“Ah-hah!” he says triumphantly as he turns and holds out his hands to me. “No dough on the fingers. What happens now?”
“Wash your hands and come watch this mixer.” I turn it on. “Turn it off when everything is incorporated and the dough isshiny. The dough you’re working on has to proof for another hour before I can shape it.”
“All right, tag-team time. Let’s do this.”
We dance around one another in the kitchen, and it makes me smile. For once, I don’t need my music to help drown out the voices of insecurity that I battle every time I get my hands dirty with my creations. Knox’s laughter and joking nature fills the crevices for me, muting the voices that usually rush through my head.
My mind is quiet when I’m with him. It’s also quiet when I’m with Eli.
I wonder if Walker will be the same way.
“Dough’s shiny and incorporated,” Knox says as I hear the mixer slow to a stop.
I place a damp rag over the top of the cinnamon roll dough, and I set it to the side. “Perfect. Let’s get what you’ve got over there dumped out into a bowl and put in the fridge.”
“Won’t the cold slow down the process of everything?”
I smile at him. “Yes, and that’s what we want. I won’t be using this dough for another day or so. The fridge will help develop the flavor without over proofing it.”
He returns my smile. “You’re just a wealth of knowledge, aren’t you?”
“It’s just science and chemistry. Nothing really to it.”
“Well, science was my worst subject in school, so you’re practically a superhero to me.”
After getting all of the dough where it needs to go, all we have to do is prep the filling and let it sit. I clean down the surface where we’re going to chop up the produce while Knox washes his hands, and then it’s my turn at the sink.
“Okay, now,” I say as I make my way to the walk-in fridge. “The cherries have to be pitted and sliced in half. The rhubarb will be a bit easier. You just chop off the last two inches of thestalk, toss it, and cube up the rest. Shouldn’t take us but maybe half an hour to prep the produce.”
I pluck the bag of cherries and the stalks of rhubarb that I need from the shelving units, but when I turn around, Knox is standing there with a look on his face that makes my thighs clench together. His gaze rakes down my body, lingering on my skirt, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
“Knox?”
His heated gaze whips back up to me. “Here, let me take that from you.”
He comes inside the walk-in and my vision tunnels. My god, he’s handsome. It should be illegal, how handsome Knox is. He crowds me as he takes the produce from my hands, and my nostrils flare. His scent hangs heavily around me, wrapping me up in a tight embrace. I have to close my eyes.
“Be right back,” he says.
I clear my throat and give the walk-in one last look, running through the ingredients in my head to make sure there’s nothing I’m forgetting. But when I turn around, I find Knox standing right behind me.
Crowding my body with his bulk.
