No Two Are Alike

17 | reindeer cookies are baked

"What do you know about taekwondo?" Logan asked.

Kate looked up from the cookie dough, her hands still on the rolling pin. Her dark hair was pulled back in its signature ponytail, and she had managed to dip the end in flour. The white tuft was smearing powder all over her red jumper.

"Taekwondo?" she repeated.

"Yup."

"Like the martial arts sport?"

"That's the one."

"Why?" She went back to rolling. "Are you thinking of taking it up?"

Logan was, actually. Primarily to defend himself against Victor Thornton, who was clearly out for blood. He swiped a piece of raw gingerbread, intending to nibble on it, and Kate swatted it out of his hand.

"Are you mad?" she demanded. "Do you want salmonella?"

"It's just cookie dough."

"That stuff can kill you."

Logan sighed theatrically. "Yeah, well, my reputation is already pretty dead. Sleeping six foot under in a grave, with only worms for bed-fellows."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, John Donne."

"I'm not being dramatic," Logan shot back. "I'm being realistic. Did you see the competition?"

Kate smirked. "Your unending televised trainwreck, you mean?" She rolled out some more of the dough. "Yup. Everyone did."

Logan groaned. "Brilliant."

"You did terribly."

"Thanks."

"Seriously." Kate pointed the rolling pin at him. "You should really get an award: Worst Contestant Ever."

"Oh, shut-up," Logan muttered, but he was smiling.

Kate winked, turning  back to the dough. There was something so refreshing about her, Logan  realized with surprise. You always knew where you stood with Kate. Sure,  she might take the piss out of you, but she always did it to your face.

And she never looked at him with sympathy. Or pity.

Not like Chloe did.

God, that had driven Logan mental; he had no idea how Jack put up with it. Admittedly, Logan had also acted like a bit of a dick to her. Okay, a major dick. He definitely owed her an apology. Which was why — he consulted his watch — he was seeing her in exactly two hours for coffee.

Kate blew a piece of hair out of her face. "Pass me the flour, would you?"

Logan did so.

"And you can start cutting out shapes."

Logan obeyed her, reaching for a santa-shaped cookie cutter. Kate paused her rolling, arching an eyebrow.

"You know this is for a gala raising money for endangered caribou, right?"

Logan switched to a reindeer-shaped cutter.

"Better," Kate said, nodding approvingly.

Logan went to work, dutifully cutting out cookies. He was relieved to be doing something productive, actually. It took his mind off — as Kate had so poignantly referred to it — his unending televised trainwreck.

He peeked sideways at her.

She was humming under her breath, punching out cookies twice as fast. God, she was efficient. It wasn't a particularly sexy word, but Kate made it sexy. She made everything sexy, actually. Including that hideous checkered apron.