Page 27 of Bear and Order

She gasps dramatically. "I absolutely did not."

"You did."

"I used them creatively."

"That's worse."

Juniper points toward the kitchen. "Are you helping or not?"

I should leave. Immediately. That would be the reasonable response. Instead I hear myself ask, "What needs to be done?"

The smile she gives me is entirely too pleased. "Excellent."

I regret everything.

Flour is evil. That is the conclusion I've reached after approximately twenty minutes in this kitchen. It gets everywhere — absolutely everywhere. I wipe my hands on a towel and look down at the mixing bowl, then at Juniper, then back at the bowl.

"This recipe makes no sense."

Juniper nearly drops the tray she's carrying. "What?"

"It says fold."

"Yes."

"What does that mean?"

She stares. Actually stares. Then laughter explodes out of her — bright, unrestrained, filling the entire kitchen. The sound does something distracting to my concentration. I ignore it.

"You don't know how to fold ingredients?"

"No."

She falls against the counter, still laughing. "How have you survived this long?"

"I eat food."

"Not successfully, apparently."

I narrow my gaze. She wipes tears from the corners of hers and waves a hand. "I'm sorry." She clearly isn't. Not even slightly. I point at the recipe. "It could just say mix."

"Folding and mixing are completely different things."

"They produce the same result."

"They absolutely do not." Juniper sets the tray down and moves toward me, positioning herself beside the bowl. "Watch." She takes the spatula and demonstrates — a slow, deliberate motion, drawing from the bottom and turning the batter over itself. "You're preserving the air. Mixing collapses it."

I watch the motion. Then the batter. "That's inefficient."

She rounds on me. "It's baking."

"It's inefficient baking."

"Brock."

"I'm observing."

"Observe quietly." She repositions my hand on the spatula without asking, adjusting the angle, and the contact is brief and practical and somehow still manages to disrupt my concentration entirely. "Slower," she instructs. "Gentle."