by Caroline Lee
CHAPTER FIVE
“Hey, why do bakers work so much?”
The question was totally unexpected, and jolted Lin out of her work. She looked across the cabin’s kitchen to where Brandon stood at the counter, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up under an apron—still wearing that buff to keep warm, of course—his forearms covered in flour and his hands disappearing into a pile of dough.
“What?”
“I said,” he repeated, “’Hey, why do bakers work so much?”
She shrugged, confused. “I don’t—”
“Because they knead the dough!”
“Wha—?” She blinked, got the joke, and frowned. “Uuuugh,” she groaned. Lifting up the cooked Chinese sausage she was slicing for the sticky rice, she deadpanned, “I’ve never sausage a bad joke!”
Without missing a beat, he smiled and quipped, “Oh, come on. It’s not the bratwurst joke I’ve ever told!”
She half-groaned, half-laughed, and tossed one of the pieces of sausage at him. It bounced off his arm, and he laughed.
“Wait, wait, do it again!” He moved away from the counter—holding his arms out so he wouldn’t get flour all over—bent his knees, tilted his head back, and opened his mouth. “Try it now!” he yelled, only it came out as, “I i’ ow!”
She was chuckling when she tossed him another piece of the meat. He got his mouth under it just in time, and snapped it up with a triumphant noise. He thrust his floured hands in the air and did a victory lap around the kitchen while she held her sides and laughed.
Finally, she calmed down enough to affect a stern expression. “Hey, Master Chef Chin, what do you want me to do with the rest of this sausage?”
He stopped mid-celebration. “You mean throwing them to one another to catch in our mouths isn’t a viable way to spend the afternoon?”
Wiggling a whole, uncut sausage at him, she frowned fiercely. “Not unless you want me to throw this thing at your head, mister.”
“Okay, okay!” He grinned. “Cut it all up, then cut up the Chinese onion.”
“The green onion, you mean?”
“What? The culinary world doesn’t revolve around Chinese cuisine?”
“No.”
“Fine.” He nodded to two glass bowls. “Sprinkle the green onion liberally across the bottom of those, and add a scoop of rice. Then divide the sausage between them, and add more rice to fill it up.”
“Then what?”
He shrugged and went back to dividing the dough into round balls about twice the size of his fist. “Then when you’re ready to eat it, you flip the bowl upside down on the plate and pull it off, so you have a mound of rice with the flavors of the onion and sausage throughout. There’s more complicated versions of the dish—with sauces and mushrooms and stuff—but I really like this recipe. It’s simple, and you can taste the distinct flavors.”
She was already salivating at the memory of the yummy dish he’d served her the last time she was here at the cabin. “I can’t believe it’s that easy!”
“Yep. The bao are going to be harder, but I’m really glad you came over to practice today.”
She couldn’t decide if he meant “I’m glad you came over” or “I’m glad we’re practicing” so she just smiled. “Me too.” That seemed to cover both options.
The sticky rice was just as easy to assemble as he’d said. The sausage had cooked with the rice in Mr. Lee’s borrowed rice cooker, so even clean-up was easy. She was done assembling the snack right around the time Brandon finished dividing the dough into mounds.
“Okay,” she said, crossing to him and wiping her hands on her apron. “How can I help?”
He pointed to one of the dough balls with his chin. “Put down a little flour—just a bit!—and roll it out into a flat circle, like this.” He demonstrated. “You want the middle of the circle to be a little thicker than the edges, because that’ll become the top of the bao when it’s flipped over.”
She followed his directions and soon had sixteen of the dough circles laid out on the counter.
“Excellent. Now we stuff them.”
In two strides, Brandon crossed the kitchen and grabbed the pan of filling off the stove. She’d watched him make it earlier—chopped red onions, cubed pork, and some kind of sauce he’d whipped up—and it still smelled amazing. Sharp and sweet all at once. He’d explained that char siu meant “BBQ pork” basically, and she could see why it was called that.
As she watched, he showed her how to fill the dough. “Plop a few spoonfuls down in the middle of the circle, then pinch the sides closed. It’s a little tough to juggle them, but don’t worry. I like to make sure I get the filling in the middle, so I don’t have big pockets of nothing but bread in the finished bun.”
“’Bao’ means ‘bun,’ right?” she asked as she followed his instructions, a little slower, but carefully.
“Yep.” He watched her pinch the edges together, then showed her how to flip it upside down on the parchment-lined baking dish. “So char siu bao means ‘barbeque pork bun,’ more or less. We’re making baked char siu bao because I think they’re tastier than the steamed version, which uses a different kind of bread.”
“Good thinking.” She kept her attention on stuffing the dough as she worked. “Besides, this will appeal to more people here.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty similar to the kolaches Miranda makes at the bakery here on the ranch. That’s a Texas thing, but they’re really popular. They’re made this way too; I watched her make some one morning.”
He hummed in interest. “And I guess it’s even kinda like the filling-stuffed dough or pasta in other cuisines, huh? Like pita or pierogis or dumplings.”
Thinking about her childhood when she’d helped her mother in the kitchen, Lin smiled. “Or ravioli!” She chuckled. “But these are actually easier to stuff, since they’re larger.”
The two of them tossed stories about making their favorite foods back and forth while they finished stuffing the baos. When she pinched off the last one, pleased she’d made some progress, as her latter ones were easier than her first one, Lin stepped back, satisfied.
“Now what?”
“Now…” He grabbed a dish towel from a drawer and tossed it to her as he pulled out another. “Now we cover and let them rise for an hour. We come back and brush them with egg wash, sprinkle with sesame seeds, and bake. I like brushing them with sugar water right as they come out of the oven. PohPo taught me that, and it’s what the best bakeries do to give them that shine.”
“Sounds awesome. Just remember my tray is the one with the red towel. I want to make sure I try one of mine, so I can see how well I did. I need to make sure I can make them as good and as fast as you by Wednesday!”
Brandon smiled—dimples and all—as he wiped his hands on his apron. “Good idea.”
When he reached out and snagged her hand, Lin sucked in a surprised breath. He tugged her closer, and she twined her fingers through his. When they were close enough she swore she could smell the faint scent of his cologne, he grinned down at her.
“Your tray has the red towel, got it.” His smile grew. “In my culture—in our culture—red is a very lucky color. It’s the color of celebration and joy, which is why so many New Year decorations are red and gold. It’s a popular color for all holidays, and it’s worn by brides.”
When he said the word brides, his gaze softened and fastened on her lips. Lin’s heartbeat sped up. Was this it? Was he finally going to kiss her? Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip in nervousness, and she saw his mouth drop open just a bit.
“Brandon?” she whispered, unconsciously leaning towards him.
“I think we should go for a walk,” he whispered back.
Well that was unexpected. She straightened. “Why?”
“Because we have an hour to kill while the dough rises, and the way I’m feeling right now, a nice cold walk in the cold air and the cold snow sounds like it’d be ideal.”
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She blushed, understanding, but still wanting him to kiss her. “Okay. I’ll get my coat.”
“I’ll get my coat, my scarf, my gloves, my hat, my other scarf, and my snow pants.”
Leave it to Brandon to make her laugh right after he’d disappointed her!
“So… are you feeling any better?”
Brandon winced. Now that they were out here in the cold, holding gloved hands and strolling towards the old town part of River’s End Ranch, he did feel better. But the temperature hadn’t quite cooled his, uh…his interest in her.
He took a deep breath and admitted the truth. “I’m sorry I rushed us out of there. I was afraid if I didn’t, I was going to kiss you.”
She huffed. “And would that be so bad? Kissing me, I mean?”
She hadn’t sounded hurt exactly, but Brandon hurried to try to explain. “It wouldn’t! I’ve been thinking about it a lot, frankly, but…”
“But what?” she asked in what sounded like exasperation.
He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I really like you, Lin, okay? The last two weeks have been really nice. You’re what I think of when I first wake up in the morning, and what I’m still thinking of when I go to bed. I think about your smile, your sense of humor, and your willingness to learn.”
In fact, I’m beginning to think I love you.
“So…what’s the problem?” Her question seemed a little too nonchalant.
“I’m just afraid.” He sighed and kept his attention on the old-fashioned buildings that they were approaching. “I’m afraid if I kiss you, all that might change.”
With a tug on his hand, Lin pulled him to a stop. He slowly turned to face her, reluctant to see the accusation in those lovely green eyes. Before she could speak, he hurried to continue his explanation.
“Besides,” he said, “after what happened between my parents, I’ve always been very careful about assuming a girl would welcome my, ah…my attentions. My kisses.”
As his words sunk in, her expression cleared a little, and pity flashed in her eyes before it softened to affection. In the last few days, she’d ask him more questions about his family, and he’d been more than willing to share. So he knew she understood what he meant.
With a slight smile, she took his other hand and opened her mouth as if to say something, then seem to reconsider. She cocked her head and studied him. Finally, she nodded.
“You said you like how I was willing to learn. Well, I want you to know that I’ve never been so thankful for someone willing to teach me as you have over the last few weeks.”
The change in subject was totally unexpected, but Brandon found himself smiling thankfully. She’d understood how awkward the conversation had been, and was doing her best to make it easier.
“Well, I’ve never had a student I was quite so interested in teaching before,” he said with a smile. “Chinese cooking isn’t easy!”
She smiled slightly, and dropped his other hand. He found himself missing her touch, but when she turned and began walking once more, he trusted her enough to follow where she led.
It wasn’t snowing, but it was still cold enough that few people were out and about. Even though he knew he wasn’t cut out for winters in Idaho, he had to admit he was grateful for the cold. Not only was it giving them some privacy now, but it had delayed filming, which meant he could enjoy more time with Lin.
Everything was silent around them as they crunched through the snow. Peaceful. Serene. So why did his insides feel anything but calm?
“It’s not just the cooking, you know,” she finally spoke up. “It’s more than that. I grew up as the only Chinese person I knew, so I did my best to fit in with everyone else. It was just coincidence I went to work for Mr. Lee at The Golden Palace, and even though he’s tried his best to get me interested in learning about the culture of my birth, I didn’t want to stand out and be different. It wasn’t until I met you I felt differently.” She squeezed his hand, and looked out over the frozen mountains in the distance. “When I met you, I realized I didn’t have to stand out. I wasn’t alone. You haven’t just taught me about cooking; you taught me about traditions and acceptance. Without you, I wouldn’t have known green eyes are lucky, or that red is the color of celebration. I wouldn’t have known about dim sum or that GungGung means ‘mother’s father’ or that it’s unlucky to stick your chopsticks upright in your rice bowl—”
She turned suddenly and looked up at him intently. “I wouldn’t have known so many things.”
Brandon could hear his own pulse pounding in his ears, and knew he was holding his breath. He hadn’t set out to educate her like that, but hearing he’d made such a difference in her life made him feel…powerful. Important. Fortunate.
And he realized, in that moment, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making a difference in hers. He loved her.
“Well, don’t just stand there freezing your tails off! Kiss the girl, or get out of the way!”
The new voice, jarring and unexpected, had come from behind them. Brandon stumbled backwards slightly—when had he leaned in so close to Lin?—and twisted to study the newcomer.
It was an old woman, from what he could tell under the winter parka and wool hat. She was glaring at them, though with a hint of amusement in her eyes, even as her mouth pulled into a frown.
“Excuse me?” he croaked, wondering who she was and what she was doing, butting into their business.
“You heard me! Kiss or get out of the way! You’re holding up traffic, and I’ve got to get to the post office to see if my package came in. I tried to fit my fairy wings over this coat and the band snapped! Can you believe it? Simon blamed shoddy manufacturing, but I suspect it’s because the real fairies still aren’t talking to me!” She leaned closer, as if imparting a secret. “Thank God for Amazon Prime, huh?”
Brandon exchanged confused glances with Lin, then pulled her off the path slightly so the crazy old lady could get by.
But instead of passing them, the woman’s frowned deepened. “You’re letting me pass? You’re not going to kiss her? Dang it,” she muttered. “I really thought that would work.”
Brandon squeezed Lin’s hand, but drew himself up. “Ma’am, I’m not sure who you are, or why you think you have a say in our lives, but I am not going to go around kissing women just because you demanded.”
“Good!” The woman nodded. “You should kiss her because she demands it. Besides, it is almost Valentine’s Day.”
With a huff, the old woman threw back her head, straightened her shoulders, and marched past the two of them. Brandon watched her go, certain his mouth was hanging open.
What had that been about?
He glanced down at Lin to see if she had any insight, and was surprised to find her smiling up at him. Before he had a chance to ask her why, she spoke.
“She’s right. It is almost Valentine’s Day. I was so focused on preparing for the dinner, I forgot about the reason for it.”
Brandon nodded and decided it was time for another confession. “Ever since we started working on this project together, I’ve been thinking about the holiday.”
“Oh yeah?” Lin stepped close enough that their parkas brushed against one another. “And what have you been thinking about?”
Brandon swallowed. “I’ve been thinking about asking you to be my Valentine.”
Her free hand slipped into his, and she smiled brightly. Funny, he wasn’t cold at all now.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about asking you to be my Valentine.”
“Oh yeah?” Brandon murmured as he leaned down towards her. “I guess the old lady was right.”
“Oh, she was right about a few things,” Lin whispered, her attention on his lips.
“Like what?” Brandon breathed, leaning closer.
“Like the fact that you should kiss a woman when she demands it.”
“Very wise,” he whispered, his heart pounding desperately in his chest. “And do you know of any women who might demand th
at?”
“Kiss me, Brandon.”
His face split into a wide grin. “Gladly!” he exclaimed, right before he wrapped her in his arms.
She was laughing when their lips met, and it was just perfect.
I’m the luckiest man alive.
CHAPTER SIX
“So, the kissing is going pretty well, huh?”
Leave it to Toni to be so blunt. Lin blushed in response, which told Toni she’d guessed correctly.
“I knew it! I could tell by that goofy little smile!”
“What goofy little smile?” Lin asked, smiling her goofy little smile.
“That one! The one you get when you’re thinking about something that makes you happy!” On the other side of the world, Toni rolled up onto her elbow and stared directly at the camera. “So, is it the thinking about the kisses that makes you happy, or the thinking about the man?”
Lin chuckled but kept her attention focused on her work. “Both, I guess. I mean, I really like his kisses.” In the week since Brandon had kissed her for the first time, there in the snow by Old Town, they’d had plenty of practice.
“But...?” her sister prompted.
“But I really, really like the man!”
When Toni dissolved into giggles—so unlike her!—Lin had to join in. Unfortunately that messed up her counting, and she had to start over once she’d calmed down.
Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and she’d spent all afternoon at Brandon’s cabin at River’s End Ranch, making char siu, the filling for the bao. There were three vats of it stored in his fridge—they had to throw out the leftover pizza to make room for it—and it had been exhausting. Luckily, Jared was covering tables at The Golden Palace tonight, so Lin had been able to come back home to work on her next project.
Spread in front of her were hundreds of little red envelopes with golden Chinese letters and designs covering them. Mr. Lee had called them “lucky,” and Brandon had told her more about them today. Apparently, the lucky red envelopes were a New Year tradition: children would receive a few dollars in them from family members or friends.