“I should be fine,” she said, shrugging out of her puffy white ski jacket and draping it over the back of a patio chair.
“Let’s see what you’ve got in here.” Roan turned to the paper sack she’d brought and started taking out items. “Flour, check. Butter, check. Sugar, white and brown, check.” He paused and raised his head to meet her eyes. “What cookie recipe are we using?”
“I thought the Toll House recipe on the back of the package.”
“That’s a decent recipe and it’s great for a first-time effort, but you need to be thinking about something special for the bake-off.”
“I know,” she said. “Chocolate chip recipes are not allowed in the cookie contest. It’s a long-standing thing in Twilight.”
“Everyone and their sister will be using the kismet cookie recipe, so let’s avoid that one as well.”
“I had the same thought.” She studied him in the glow from the festive outdoor string lights that cast a daisy yellow gleam over the outdoor kitchen.
His dark hair was slicked back off his forehead and he had a regal profile—thick brows, high cheekbones, strong jawline, firm chin. He smelled of something trustworthy and earthy. Solid, dependable. She couldn’t help comparing him to Danny.Beside a man like Roan, her former boyfriend came off looking like a kid.
“Do you play video games?” she asked, surprising herself with the question.
“No,” he said. “I don’t have time for that stuff.”
Danny was an avid gamer. Jazzy didn’t know why, but Roan’s answer made her smile.
“Not that I mean to imply there’s anything wrong with video games,” he said. “Lots of people enjoy them. Do you play?”
“Not really.”
“Look at us. We’ve got something in common.” His smile moved all the way to his eyes.
“And now we have baking as well.”
He chuckled and she really liked the sound of his laugh. “I guess we do.”
Her awkwardness ebbed and she felt like her usual self again.
Rummaging around in the counter underneath the sink, Roan pulled out a large mixing bowl, a whisk, and a big wooden spoon. “There’s a cookie sheet in the pan drawer to your right. We will use the cookie sheet to put the dough on to rest.”
“Why not just put them directly in the Dutch oven?”
“Because the Dutch oven needs to be hot before you put the cookies in. Pro tip for getting crispy bottoms that don’t burn as easily.”
“Do you need to go check on Trinity before we start baking?” Jazzy asked, getting out the high-quality baking sheet. This man took his tools seriously.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket andshowed her the feed from a camera installed in his daughter’s bedroom. Jazzy peered over his arm for a better look. Trinity lay curled up in the middle of her bed with a stuffed animal, sound asleep.
“The miracle of modern technology,” he said.
“She won’t appreciate it when she’s sixteen and sneaking out her window to meet a boyfriend.”
Roan handed her measuring cups and spoons. “When she’s old enough to need her privacy, I’ll take the camera out.”
“And put them up outside her window?”
Roan studied her. “Did you sneak out of your window when you were a teenager?”
“No way.” Jazzy grinned and laid out the bag of chocolate chips so she could read the recipe on the back. “Not me. My dad and I had a really good relationship, and I didn’t want to give him any reason not to trust me.”
“Do you think your dad will give me parenting tips when Trinity and I reach that stage?” Roan arched an eyebrow. He looked especially debonair when he did that, playful and just the tiniest bit rakish.
“You’re forming your relationship with her right now.” Jazzy pulled medical scissors from the pocket of her jeans and cut open the sacks of flour and sugar. “I believe your relationship will be solid.”