White Knight - A First Love Romance (Complete)

White Knight: Chapter 5

Matt huffed in defeat. "What can I do?"

"How about you stall for time?" Sophie stepped forward. "Entertain folks out there while Thomas and I search for pumpkin pies." She focused on Matt, refusing to acknowledge the array of white teeth gleaming on Thomas's face at the mention of working together. This was an act out of necessity, not forgiveness.

"Me? No one will listen to me." Matt grumbled.

"Sure they will." Thomas guided Matt to the door. "Find Kaja, tell her what's happened and she'll know what to do."

With a way to help, the teen perked up. He nodded and pushed through the door to the dining hall. Sophie tugged at her apron strings. "The closest store is three blocks away. It'll take forever to get a car at this time on a holiday. We'll have to walk."

"Hold up." She spun around to face Thomas, who was heading in the opposite direction, walking into the pantry. He returned with the tins of pumpkin puree in his arms.

"We don't have time to remake the pies." Irritation flared again. He'd admitted to not knowing how to cook, but she'd thought he'd understood pie basics at this point. "And puree won't work in a pie."

His eyebrows raised like a flag at dawn. "But it will work in my mother's famous Pumpkin brownies."

"You said you don't cook?"

"I can't." Thomas placed the tins on the counter and walked to the rack of pots and pans. "I bake. It's different. You know what I mean."

Sophie stared at the back of Thomas's head, a mixture of annoyance and amusement swirling in her mind. Looked at from a certain perspective, there was a difference between baking and cooking, like the difference between dessert and a main dish.

He knelt down to inspect the bottom shelf. "Do you have baking pans?"

"Up here." Reaching up on her tiptoes, she yanked on one of the pans they used for birthday cakes. A solid hand on the small of her back waist steadied her, sending a flare of what she did not want to admit was desire up her spine.

"Let me."

The scent of Thomas's cologne, the hint of sage, surrounded her and her lungs betrayed her, inhaling deeply. Feet firmly on the floor, she retreated, creating space between them. He plucked a stack of three more pans off the shelf and placed the assortment of rectangles on the stainless steel counter.

"Four 13 x 9 pans..." His fingers flew up one by one like he was counting. "Yup. That works. We can double the recipe, then double it again. I've helped my mom make these for fundraisers."

"Your mother bakes?"

He skipped across the kitchen and punched numbers into the oven. The appliance ticked to life. "Still warm. Won't take too long to get to temperature." Thomas smiled at her. "My mom loves to bake. She says it's one of the ways to say I love you."

The sense of déjà vu hit her like a snowball to the face. One made of soft, fluffy snow that can barely maintain a cylindrical shape. Thomas's eyes twinkles and the room swayed before her. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. It was awfully warm in here again.

"Can you brown the butter?"

His question snapped the room back into focus. "Of course."

"Right." He rubbed his hands together as he surveyed the kitchen. "We need a mixing bowl."

Sophie retrieved a pot and set it on the stove. "Will this work?"

His sparking smile was like an arrow to her heart. "Trust me."