by Jae
Sasha studied her. It appeared as if Ashley had something else on her mind. “Your question about pizza…does that have anything to do with the craziness that you said has been going on this week?” She tried to think of what might have happened. The first thought that came to mind made her put down her second slice as she lost her appetite. “Did you meet someone you want to have pizza…or a steak dinner with?” Okay, I think you need to stop using this analogy. It was getting confusing, especially since they were having pizza together.
“No.” Ashley pushed her plate away and leaned back. “My parents found out about the wedding.”
She didn’t need to explain whose wedding she meant. “Oh. I take it they don’t think two women getting married is a reason to celebrate?”
“Not at all. My mother doesn’t even want me to do the flowers or attend the wedding because she doesn’t want me to be associated with it in any way.”
Was that where Ashley’s fear of being judged was coming from? Had she learned it from her mother? “What about your father?” Sasha asked quietly.
Ashley, who normally had the posture of a ballet dancer, hunched her shoulders. “He didn’t seem as bothered.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, it’s a start.”
Ashley shook her head. Her expressive, nougat-colored eyes held a world of hurt. “He isn’t bothered—as long as it’s not his own daughter walking down the aisle with another woman. If he found out I’m gay, he would never accept it. Neither of them would.”
Sasha opened her mouth to tell her that she needed to be true to herself and find her own way, no matter what her parents or other people thought. But Ashley didn’t need a lecture right now. She needed a friend. Sasha reached across the table and took Ashley’s hand.
Ash jumped as if she hadn’t expected that, but she didn’t pull away. Her fingers were cold, even though she had held the hot pizza up until a few moments ago.
“I’m sorry.” Sasha looked deeply into her eyes. “You deserve so much better. They should just love and support you, without putting conditions on it.”
Ashley said nothing, but she held Sasha’s hand firmly, as if it were a lifeline tethering her to dry land.
Instinctively, Sasha put her other hand on top and cradled Ashley’s smaller hand in both of hers. If only she could shield her from her parents’ and everyone else’s prejudice as easily.
They sat in silence, just holding hands, the pizza forgotten next to them.
“The pizza’s getting cold,” Sasha murmured after a while.
“I don’t care. I lost my appetite anyway. But you go ahead and eat.” Despite that offer, Ashley didn’t let go, so Sasha had no hand free to eat.
“You know what? I think I’ve had enough pizza too.” Then, realizing Ashley might think she was talking about the metaphorical pizza, she added, “Taco and cheese pizza, I mean. Want to help me burn off some of the calories we’ve just consumed?”
Ashley arched her brows.
“I’m talking about exercise of the non-fun, non-naked kind. Well, I’m hoping it will be fun too, just less sexy. Want to help me bake the last bunch of cupcakes for Mr. Eads?”
“Sure, I can hand you what you need,” Ashley said.
Sasha shook her head. “No. I think it’s time you really try your hand at baking.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Come on, Flower Girl.” Sasha squeezed the hand she still held. “I helped out in the flower shop last weekend; now you get to be a baker.”
“You helped clean up,” Ashley said. “You didn’t actually handle the flowers.”
Sasha had to give her that. “Let’s make a deal: I’ll come over sometime and play florist if you bake with me now.”
Ashley hesitated. “What if I do something wrong and completely mess up your order?”
“So what? Then we’ll just start over. We’re baking cupcakes, not doing brain surgery.”
That got her a smile, and Ashley’s hand relaxed in hers. “Okay. Let’s put the pizza away for later and go bake.”
They got up, and their hands slid apart.
Sasha didn’t know what to do with her hands, which felt empty now that she wasn’t holding on to Ashley’s, so she put her apron back on, picked up the pizza boxes, and carried them to the kitchen to put them in the cooler.
With the back door still open and the ovens not running, the temperature in the kitchen had cooled down. Yeah. Cooling down. Might be exactly what you need.
Shivering, she closed the door and preheated the oven.
“Where do we start, boss?” Ashley asked as they washed their hands at the sink. The sadness from earlier was gone from her eyes, as if she had decided to focus on the here and now and enjoy this new experience.
“First, we get you the right outfit.”
Ashley glanced down at her purple, soft-looking V-neck sweater, a pair of fitted jeans, and pink sneakers with a few green stains on them. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing at all.” In fact, Ashley looked great. Sasha liked her style: feminine, but in a low-maintenance kind of way. “But you are missing an apron and a hairnet.”
“Can’t I have a bandanna like you?” Ashley pointed at the one Sasha was wearing. “I like them.”
It wasn’t really a compliment for the way they looked on Sasha, but it warmed her anyway. “Yeah?”
Ashley nodded.
“Then let’s get you one.” Sasha opened one of the cupboards and got out a clean apron and one of her bandannas.
Ashley took off her sweater, revealing a white T-shirt that was thin enough to hint at the black bra cradling full breasts.
Don’t stare, pervert. Quickly, Sasha averted her gaze and focused on lining up the ingredients. Once Ashley had put on the apron over the T-shirt, Sasha raised her gaze back up.
“How does this work?” Ashley pointed at the bandanna.
“Let me show you.” Sasha folded it into a triangle, then folded down the top two inches. Her body buzzed with awareness of their closeness as she stepped behind Ashley and tied the bandanna around her forehead so the triangle part was hanging down over her face.
For a moment, Ashley was blindfolded. She stiffened. “What are you…?”
“Trust me and relax,” Sasha whispered into her ear. “This really is the best way to do it.”
Ashley blew out an audible breath and held still. “Okay.”
Gently, Sasha flipped the top layer of the triangle back, over the top of Ashley’s head, and pulled it through the knot. She walked around to her front and slid the whole thing back a little, uncovering Ashley’s eyes.
When their gazes connected, Sasha forgot the next step for a moment.
“Done?” Ashley asked, staring into her eyes.
Sasha tucked in the corner of the second layer and rolled the front up until it was in the middle of Ashley’s forehead. “Done.”
“Do I look like a pirate?” Ashley reached for the measuring cup, lifted it as if it were a saber, and lowered her brows in what she probably thought was an intimidating expression.
Sasha tried to suppress her smile but knew she was failing completely. Ashley was much too cute to be a pirate. Sasha liked this playful side of her. She had a feeling not a lot of people ever got to see it. “Oh yeah. So, is the Terror of the Seven Seas ready to begin?”
“Aye, aye, Captain. What are we making?”
“Lemon cupcakes with raspberry buttercream frosting.” Sasha threw a lemon in the air, caught it, and set it down on the worktable. “And just so you know, as the baker, you’re obligated to try one.”
“Ah, I see! So it’s all just part of your evil plan to make me try one of your other cupcake flavors.”
Sasha shrugged. “Trust me. It won’t be a hardship. They’re delicious.”
“Maybe not when I make them,” Ashley muttered. “I’m the woman who can ruin a brownie mix, remember?”
“Have some faith. You just have to follow my lead, and they’ll turn out great.” Sasha wrapped one arm around Ashley’s shoulder and pulled her over until they were side by side at the worktable. She slid the laminated recipe with her aunt’s messy handwriting closer so Ashley could read it. “First step: measure out the flour, the sugar, and the other dry ingredients.”
Ashley looked back and forth between Sasha and the recipe. When Sasha gave her an encouraging nod, she dipped the measuring cup into the flour bag.
“Oh, no, no. Not so fast. Spoon the flour into the cup. If you scoop it out, the flour will become packed, and you could end up with too much flour.”
Ashley spooned the flour into the measuring cup. “Wow. This is more of a science than an art, isn’t it?”
“It’s both, and that’s what I love about it. It pays off to be precise with things like measuring the flour, but with some of the other ingredients, you can get creative.”
Once Ashley had measured out the flour, she moved on to the next ingredient on the list, filling the measuring cup with the sugar spoon by spoon.
It wasn’t necessary for the sugar, but Sasha said nothing, not wanting to spoil her fun by correcting her at every turn. She watched Ashley as she added baking powder and a pinch of salt.
Her face was a study in concentration. She looked as if she were calculating the flight path of a space rocket instead of baking—well, except for the fleck of flour dusting her cheek.
Sasha’s fingers itched to wipe it away. Instead, she handed her the first of four eggs. “The eggs go into a separate bowl please. We’ll need them in a second. Do you know how to crack them?”
“Um, I just hit the egg on the edge of the bowl until it cracks?”
“Kind of. You tap it onto the edge lightly until you have a crack. Then you put your thumbs in the crack and pull the shell apart. That way, there won’t be any bits of shell in the bowl.” Sasha demonstrated with an egg. “See?”
Ashley imitated her. When the yolk and the egg white slid neatly into the bowl, she beamed at her.
“Great.” Sasha patted her shoulder. “You’ll be a master baker in no time. Don’t get me wrong, but I’m a little amazed that your mother never taught you how to bake. I tried her apple pie at a church sale once, so I know she can bake. Why didn’t she show you?”
“Oh, she wanted to.” Ashley let out a sarcastic laugh. “After all, how am I supposed to catch a husband if I can’t bake?”
“But you weren’t interested—in finding a husband or in learning to bake?” Sasha asked.
“Definitely not the former. When I was little, I looked forward to learning how to bake, but…” Ashley cracked the other two eggs and stared down into the bowl. “It was something that Melissa and my mom shared. They used to spend entire days in the kitchen around Christmas time, and the house smelled so amazing.” She paused as if getting lost in the memory. Then she shook her head. “After Melissa…after she was gone, my mother asked me to bake with her, but I couldn’t. It felt so wrong. Like I was trying to take Melissa’s place.”
Shit. She shouldn’t have asked and reopened old wounds. Her sister might be the reason Ashley had been so reluctant to help her bake. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have nudged you to do this. If you’d rather just watch while I—”
“No,” Ashley said firmly. “In here, it doesn’t feel like I’m trying to fill Melissa’s shoes. With you, I’m all me.”
Sasha’s throat tightened. Wow. What a powerful statement. It seemed to include so much more than just baking. She cleared her throat. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to hide or be someone you’re not when you’re with me.”
“I’m not.”
They looked at each other.
Hey, baking, remember? Those cupcakes won’t make themselves. Sasha reached for the hand mixer and held it out to her. She normally used a stand mixer, but she wanted Ashley to have the hands-on experience.
Ashley gulped but gamely took the mixer.
The simple gesture had taken on a whole new meaning now that Sasha knew why Ashley had been so reluctant to try baking. She had to move even closer to add ingredients when needed. The mixer was loud, so she shouted her instructions directly into Ash’s ear, and Ashley did the same to her whenever she had a question. Since she was shorter, her breath tickled Sasha’s neck, sending shivers through her entire body. Was it just her, or was it getting really hot in here?
Sasha wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed when they had added the lemon juice and some zest as the last ingredients and the batter had a nice, smooth consistency. She reached up to turn off the mixer. Her fingers brushed Ashley’s, making her breath catch.
When the mixer stopped, silence filled the few inches of space between them.
Because Ashley had trusted her—not just by talking about her sister, but also by being willing to bake with her—everything between them seemed more intimate now.
“What now?” Ashley asked.
“Yeah, that’s a good question,” Sasha mumbled. She had no idea where to take it from here.
“Um, what?”
Sasha gave herself a mental kick. “Now we scoop the batter into the cupcake pans.” She carried the bowl over to where she had prepared the two pans with cupcake liners. “Only fill them a little more than halfway, or you’ll end up with muffin tops.”
“Me or the cupcakes?” Ashley’s eyes twinkled.
Sasha chuckled, enjoying Ashley’s relaxed mood. “Both.”
Ashley spooned the batter into the paper liners, again with that very focused, very cute expression on her face.
When she was done, Sasha slid the pans into the oven and closed the door.
They turned to face each other.
“Let’s get started on the frosting while they bake,” Sasha said before Ashley could ask “what now?” again. She still had no clue how to answer that question other than with baking instructions.
The handle of the mixer vibrated beneath Ash’s fingers. At least she could blame the tingle going through her arm on the mixer, even though she knew that it had been caused by Sasha’s hand brushing hers whenever she added an ingredient.
Baking with Sasha was fun, she had to admit—and not just because of those accidental brushes of their fingers. Sasha was a patient teacher, and as a result, Ash felt more confident by the second. This time, she hardly needed any assistance.
Sasha only had to show her how to run the pureed raspberries through a fine-mesh strainer to remove the seeds, and Ash took it from there.
In what seemed like no time at all, they had a smooth, delicious-looking frosting. Normally, Ash preferred strawberry to raspberry buttercream, but she was tempted to stick her finger in the bowl and try some.
Sasha peeked into the bowl. “Ooh, that looks yummy.”
When she looked back up, Ash discovered that Sasha had managed to get a pink streak of frosting on her cheek. In combination with the pirate bandanna on her head, it looked almost like a scar from a saber fight.
Before Ash could stop to think about it, she had reached out, gently wiped it away, and licked the frosting off her finger. It was only when the sweet yet tart taste of the raspberry buttercream spread across her tongue that she fully realized what she had done. What the hell…? Her finger slid out of her mouth.
Surprise, amusement, and something else—something that made Ash want to fan herself—mingled in Sasha’s gaze. “Hungry?” Her voice was low and husky.
You’ve got no idea. Ash felt as if she’d been starving all of her life.
“Because if you are, you can have a little more.” Sasha ran her finger along one of the beaters and smeared a glob of frosting across Ash’s face, then wiped her finger on the edge of Ash’s apron.
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nbsp; Ash reached up and touched the sticky substance on her cheek, then looked at her fingertips with wide eyes. “I can’t believe you did that!”
Sasha grinned. “New bakers have to be christened. You and your pristine white apron looked way too clean. We can’t have that.”
“Hmm. You and your apron are missing a bit of pink color too.” Ash ran her finger along the second beater and swiped a bit of frosting across Sasha’s apron, right where a brownish streak ran across her chest already. Her really soft chest. Oh shit. Heat flooded her face. What is it with me and her breasts?
Sasha stared down at the pink smear on her apron. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Ash to do that.
Ash hadn’t either. When she was around Sasha, she found herself doing things she never could have imagined doing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Sasha didn’t let her finish. She grabbed a beater with each hand and wiped them up and down Ash’s apron.
Little specks of pink frosting landed on Ash’s white T-shirt.
Oh, just you wait, my friend! Ash dipped two fingers into the bowl and scooped out more of the frosting.
Sasha stood her ground, her eyes flashing a challenge. “You wouldn’t dare.”
That had been the wrong thing to say. Ash had been underestimated her entire life, and she wanted Sasha of all people not to see her in the same way. She flicked the frosting right into Sasha’s face.
A loud gasp echoed through the kitchen, and Ash wasn’t sure if it had come from her or from Sasha.
Slowly, Sasha opened her eyes, which she had reflexively closed, and wiped her face. “Oh, you are so going to pay for this!” She snatched the bowl away from Ash, stuck her whole hand in there, and threateningly lifted her handful of pink goop.
Uh-oh. Ash slowly backed away. After a few steps, the counter stopped her retreat. Her gaze darted left and right, looking around for escape routes, but there were none.
Sasha towered over her with a triumphant grin. “Got you now!” She rubbed her handful of frosting in Ash’s face as if it were snow.
Sputtering, Ash tried to get away. She licked off a bit of frosting that ran down her face. God, it was delicious, possibly even better than strawberry buttercream—not that she’d ever admit that. But that attack still called for revenge. Since Sasha was much stronger and still had the frosting bowl firmly in her grip, she needed new ammunition.