Roan found the mallet and smashed up the candy cane. They weighed and measured and added the ingredients to the food processor in stages. As Jazzy dumped in the cinnamon she’d measured, Roan said, “Whoa, whoa.”
“What is it?” She blinked at him.
“That doesn’t look like cinnamon.” He picked up the bottle she’d just used and turned it around for her to read.
Ginger.
“Oh no.” Jazzy groaned and smacked her forehead with her palm. “I should have read the label. I’m such a dolt. In my job, we read labels three times before administering anything. Why is it soeasy for me at work and so hard for me to do that when I’m baking?”
“First of all, you’re not a dolt,” Roan said. “Secondly, we’re making this up as we go, so there’s no rules. Thirdly...”
“Yes?” She captured his gaze.
“This,” he said and leaned over to kiss her.
“Hmm.” She rested herself against his chest. “I’m really liking thirdly.”
He chuckled and kissed her again, a kiss so fantastic it had her toes curling inside her socks. If she didn’t break this off, they’d be back in her bed in nothing flat.
“Should we throw this mess out and start over?” She eyed the dough, turned yellow-orange with ginger.
“We’ve gone this far, might as well bake it up and see what happens.”
“I like your adventuresome attitude.”
They finished the dough and put it in the oven to bake. Tomorrow, they could try a different rendition in the Dutch oven.
Jazzy paced while the dough baked. She desperately wanted these cookies to work out. Her motivation was no longer besting Andi. She’d let go of that objective from the moment she’d started falling for Roan. She had only one thought about this baking challenge. Do Roan proud. Show him how much his help and talent had improved her skills. Show him there was a reason for him to return to campfire baking. People needed him and his expertise. Now she wanted to win for him.
“It smells pretty darn good,” Roan said.
“So did the salt cookies I made with Charlie.”
“Where’s that Jazzy optimism I know and love?” he asked.
Love.
He loved her optimism. Did that mean he could fall in love with her too?Chill out. Don’t rush things. Enjoy the ride.
When the cookies were out of the oven, they looked as good as they smelled. Roan added the chocolate drizzle. The dough was perfectly flakey. Better than any of the dough she’d made before. Jazzy poked a cooling cookie with her finger.
“I’m not scared to try one,” Roan said, scooping up the cookie she’d poked and putting it in his mouth.
“Well?” She knotted her hands into fists.
He chewed thoughtfully and then a big smile spread across his face. “These are amazing, Jazz. Try one.”
She popped a cookie into her mouth and the first thing she tasted was the chocolate followed by the subtle hint of ginger. It wasn’t too much. Not too strong. Followed by the soft crunch of the melted peppermint tucked inside the dough. It was a tongue-tingly taste sensation and she reached for another cookie just as Roan did. They munched, oohing and aahing over their creation.
“The best recipes often come from happy accidents. You bake cookies just like this on Thursday and I guarantee you’ll make it to the finals. Well done, Jazzy, well done.”
“Really?” His praise washed over her like sunshine.
“Straight up.”
“You honestly think I have a real chance to win the bake-off?”
“With this recipe? I certainly do.”