Page 45 of Forbidden to Fall

May turned to the ingredients. “Hopefully, I can help things move along a bit more quickly so you can get some sleep tonight. What time did you say you were up this mornin’?”

I grabbed the big mixing bowl. “Same as always when I’m on the morning shift. About 2:30.”

“2:30?” James repeated incredulously.

“I’m used to it.” I set the food scale next to the bowl. “All right, first up is the flour. Here’s the recipe.” I tapped the paper on the counter.

“On it,” May said.

“I’m going to try a couple of different things today because your son said my last batch was boring…”

May’s jaw dropped open. “James Thomas Arthur Jeremy Carver!”

My brows went up. “Is that your full name?”

“Today’s version,” he said. “Mama likes to rechristen me whenever she’s upset. I’ve had a lot of names over the years.”

“Upset is right! Where are your manners, young man?”

I laughed and put a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carver. It’s my fault. I was teasing him. He complimented the cookies, but I pushed and pushed until he gave me his real thoughts. I want these cookies to be excellent, not just good. And definitely not boring. Your son is an honest man.”

James looked away, his jaw tightening.

I suppressed the impulse to cringe. I should stick to not finishing my sentences. I seemed to have a knack for saying the wrong thing.

Whatever Archer had meant by there being more to the story, I couldn’t see a situation where James’s kissing Ryan’s girlfriend was honest.

I directed all my focus to baking. It did go faster with May’s help. James stuck around too, though he was quiet for the first fifteen minutes. He slowly thawed, mostly thanks to his mom’s irresistible vivacity, and I enjoyed watching the way they teased each other.

Professionally enjoyed it.

We snacked on pretzels while we worked. James and May rolled dough into balls—May adding the extra step of covering them in brown sugar—while a batch baked and I got started on a glaze to spice things up a bit. The cheesecake had given me the idea. It seemed a great way to lean into the maple element and set the cookies apart.

The danger was that it would make the cookies too sweet.

It was a chance I’d have to take.

The pretzel bag got moved around the kitchen as different spaces were needed, but the carb-loaded snacks kept my energy up well enough.

Once two batches had cooled on the rack, May and I drizzled glaze over them. James rested a hand on the counter to watch, and there was a big crunch.

He lifted his hand from the bag of pretzels beneath. “Shoot.” He picked it up and looked inside.

I went on my tiptoes beside him to peer into the bag. The last remaining handfuls were crushed.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” I teased.

“It’s okay,” May said. “I can use ‘em to top my puddin’.”

My brow wrinkled. Pretzels on pudding?

That was one I hadn’t heard, though maybe it satisfied the salty and sweet cravings simultaneously?

My hand paused on the glaze bottle, and I looked at the bag of obliterated pretzels in James’s hand.

“Can…can I see those?” I asked tentatively.

He handed them to me, and I looked inside, considering.