Match Made in Quarantine

17. Master Baker

It was already evening by the time I settled on a lemon pound cake recipe that tooted itself as better than the Starbucks lemon loaf. The only thing I was missing from the recipe was powdered sugar and since it wasn't a core ingredient, I hoped it wouldn't make as much of a difference taste-wise.

Arranging all the ingredients on the kitchen counter had made me a bit nervous though. How long had it been since I'd baked? Memories of making Christmas cookies with grandma flooded my mind. The smell of cinnamon and hot chocolate and her soothing voice that always felt like home — used to feel like home. Nowadays, it seemed like a lifetime ago. What was home now? My heart clenched and I cleared my throat, hoping I could chase away the bittersweet memory.

Maddox had been quietly observing me from the living room and seemed to take the pause while I walked down memory lane as an invitation to come closer.

"What are you doing?" His voice sounded careful and he approached slowly as if I was some wild animal.

Letting out a sigh, I gave him a pointed look, "I'm starting a lemon colony. Free the lemons!"

He frowned, clearly not getting the sarcasm in my voice. I shook my head, exasperated, and motioned to all the ingredients in front of me, "What do you think I'm doing, genius?"

Scratching his chin for a few seconds, he barely looked at the items before blurting out, "I dunno, making lemonade?"

My eyes opened wide as I stared at him, "Seriously?! With flour and eggs? What kind of lemonade have you been drinking?" Grimacing in disgust, I looked him over once. His face was completely expressionless.

"I mean, I don't judge. Maybe you like a bit of yolk with your lemons." He said, his voice sounding concerningly serious. The thing that gave him away however was the way his lips pulled up at the corners, ever so slightly. I stared at him in silence for a few seconds before I started laughing, and in a moment, I could hear him join in.

Even after we'd stopped chuckling, I couldn't get rid of the annoying smile on my face, "You're impossible," muttering, I quickly shifted my focus back to baking.

I started cracking the eggs, trying to hide my embarrassment. Even though I was already a pro at avoiding Maddox's gaze and had a Masters in pretending he didn't exist, it was harder than usual to ignore him. Probably because he kept hovering around me and glancing over my shoulder. My body stiffened, cheeks feeling uncomfortably warm. Just as I was about to bark a warning to get out of my personal space, he let out an oooh noise.

"You're making a cake," he stated, self-satisfied with his brilliant deduction skills.

"Wow, Sherlock, did you figure that one out all by yourself?" I mocked him and saw his lips pull up for a fraction of a second.

"Can I help?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

I choked on my own spit at his words and his eyes widened. "You okay?" He sounded both worried and confused.

I raised my hand in the air, nodding. "Just choked on my spit." As soon as the words were out I regretted saying them. That annoyingly charming smile instantly swallowed his whole face and I could see he was about to say something so I beat him to the punch, "Anyway, I don't exactly trust you in the kitchen."

"What, why?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Is he serious?!

"I mean for starters you almost burnt the apartment down by making pizza," I snorted and he grimaced at my words, his lips pulled back and teeth pressed together — but I wasn't done, "by making frozen pizza, at that. Like, who burns a frozen pizza? How is that even possible?" I asked the questions that had been floating through my mind since that day.