Page 23 of Property of Doc

Issy snaps her fingers and says, “I’ll be right back,” before she hauls ass out of the kitchen.

Right now, we have the rumchatta cake baking, as well as what Constance said is a cherry cake that uses 7-Up for the liquid. Both women add sour cream to their batters, claiming it makes the finished product very moist. My mind is whirling with all the possibilities, and the fact that these two women want to help is priceless to me.

When Issy returns, she has an iPad which she starts up, then she asks, “What site do you use for your colors and additives?”

“I have several since you have to use an oil-based food coloring for the bark, but for the extracts, I prefer this one,” I reply, rattling off the website by memory.

The five of us are soon scrolling through the various flavors, and each time either Constance or Maria says they have a cake that uses that base, Issy adds a bottle to the cart, before she hits the ‘buy’ button. Then, she goes over to the site I use for my molds, and we find a few of those that will make cute pops, as well as smaller ones I’ll use to create decorative pieces.

When the timer goes off, Maria bustles over to the oven and after testing that it’s done, she pulls the cake out of the oven and brings it over to the island where one of my mixers is waiting. “Okay, it needs to cool just a few minutes, then I’ll cut it in chunks and put it into the mixer on low until we get a dough consistency,” I say. “Then I form a ball and wrap them in plastic wrap until I’m ready to form the pops.”

We’re deep into creating the second ball of dough when Doc walks through the door, followed by Rio and BamBam. “What are you ladies getting into?” he asks as he makes it to my side and drops a kiss on my temple.

“Constance and Maria have some recipes that they said are popular at the cake booth during the rodeos, so we’re trying them out to see if they’ll work for cake pops,” I reply.

“So, we’re taste testing?” he asks, grinning at me.

“You don’t mind, do you?” I query, suddenly worried that the plans he made have changed.

He scoffs before replying, “Absolutely not. Do you need me to get anything from your room?”

“I’ll do it since I know exactly where everything is,” I reply.

“Then I’ll help.” The smile he gives me is wicked and I feel my insides start heating at the promise I see in his eyes. Looks like we’ll be having our own fun later.

“Okay, first of all, watching you make them is fascinating,” Issy says as she slowly chews a bite she just took of the rumchatta cake pop. “Secondly, I think this one would definitely be a hit.”

“We could test it at the farmer’s market if you want, Constance,” I suggest, looking at the older woman.

I found out that they have a booth that sells a variety of fresh vegetables, homemade cakes, jams, and jellies, and they use the profits to get the stray cats that are dumped at the ranch vetted. In fact, one of the barns is strictly dedicated for the cats since it has climate control, as well as a dedicated space for beds and their food.

“That wouldn’t be competing with you, would it?” Constance questions.

“Not at all, in fact, I can add a whiteboard sign that mentions they can get the ones y’all are gonna sell at your booth, since the flavors will be different.”

“Wonder if you could make one that tasted like a root beer float,” Doc says.

“No clue, but I bet we could figure something out. Right, ladies?” I ask the women who have given me so many ideas for new flavors, I’m considering askingallof them to help. Right now, only having two hands is going to be a detriment to all I want to accomplish.

“We might have something,” Maria murmurs. “We’ll fiddle with it tomorrow. Y’all go on now, it’s getting late and you know this ranch wakes up when the rooster crows.”

“Fucking rooster, shoulda shot him years ago,” Rio grumbles, causing all of us to laugh. “Whoever heard of bikers getting up before noon?”

“Apparently, those who run a ranch,” BamBam states.

“No, I need to help get all of this cleaned up,” I say. Most of the kitchen is straight already, but I have the mug I used to dip the cake pops in to wash, as well as the mold that I used to form them.

“Nonsense, there are two little things to wash and that’ll take me no time at all,” Maria replies, shooing all of us away.

“Y’all used to do that when we were kids,” Rio says, grinning down at the two older women.

“Because y’all were always in the kitchen scrounging for something to snack on.”

“We were growing boys,” BamBam asserts.

“We’restillgrowing boys,” Rio announces, throwing his arm around Issy.

I shake my head at their antics; they’ve got such a good relationship that I’m glad Doc decided to claim me. It’s nice to belong somewhere again.