Jada sniffed. “Are you capable of not glowering?”
“You’re not distracting me. We’re only going to make a half dozen chocolate cupcakes. Simple. No large mixers. No professional-grade oven.”
“Yeah, you have real bargain-basement equipment here.” She gestured toward the decidedly upscale stainless steel appliances.
Donovan shrugged. “It’s still a simple oven.”
“I don’t cook.” Her pout was adorable. Everything about her was adorable. He was in so much fucking trouble, and he didn’t give a damn.
“You’re not cooking. You’re baking.” He looped his arms around her waist and peered into her eyes. “In any case, I believe in you.”
“Thanks.” Jada scanned the kitchen with wide eyes, then turned back to him. “Okay, yes. I want to try. Good idea.”
He jerked back in surprise. “Really?”
She squared her shoulders in her very Jada way. “Yes, I’m determined to be a better me and believe in myself more. I even promise not to give you an opportunity to say I tried to burn down your kitchen.”
“Hey, I apologized for that.”
She poked him in the chest. “With Crocs! That’s what you should be apologizing for. Gifting me those fashion abominations.”
“You love those shoes. You’re wearing them right now.” They’d detoured through the living room on the way to the kitchen so she could get them.
Jada stared down at her footwear. “Well, yes, but still.”
He crossed his arms. “But still what?”
Her chin lifted. “But still I have to complain because your head is already big enough.”
“You like my big head.”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
“Whatever.” She balled her hands into fists, punched the air, and bounced on her toes. “So are we doing this?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “What? Boxing?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m ignoring you.”
“You can’t. I have to show you what to do.”
“Ah, there’s the control freak.”
“You want to bake or insult me?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Both?”
“Why do I put up with you?”
“My dazzling, sparkling wit?”
“Yeah, something like that. Or maybe it’s the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and stand up for what you believe in, no matter what.”
The smile that bloomed across her face made his heart stutter. “Really?”
He drew her closer. He no longer had to resist the temptation to touch her whenever he wanted. “Yeah, really. You’re brave and you make me laugh.”
She buried her face into his chest. “You mean cry?”
“Hey, I’m trying to give you a compliment. Take it.” He searched her eyes until he found what he was looking for—belief in what he was telling her.
She nodded. “Okay. Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Thanks. But please understand I’ll take back every word I said if you burn down my kitchen.”
Jada froze. “You’re the worst.”
“You meant the best, I know. It was a slip of the tongue. It happens to the best of us.” He dodged her playful shove and retrieved eggs and milk from the refrigerator. He jerked his chin toward the counter behind her. “Flour and sugar are over there.”
He walked her through the process. She concentrated fiercely, matching him step by step. The intense look on her face was sexy as hell. They only stopped twice—okay, three times—for long, lingering kisses and for him to slide his hand under her shirt to feel that soft skin he loved to caress.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Donovan said as he slid the cupcake pans into the oven. He dropped the towel on the countertop. “What are you doing?”
She was poring over her phone, not paying him any attention. “Setting my phone alarm.”
Donovan blinked. “Why? I already set the oven timer.”
She looked up. “I’m not taking any chances. You know what’s better than one alarm? Two alarms. And you know what’s better than two alarms? Three.” She took a few steps to the microwave and set its timer. “It’s going to be great when my batch turns out better than yours.”
Donovan crossed his arms. “Oh, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
She was so busy smirking at him, she never saw the flour headed her way. He landed a perfect strike. The ingredient hit her square in the chest right over the San Diego Knights logo. She gasped. “Donovan!”