Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews!
Chapter 4- The First Taste Test
After two cakes were finished baking, properly cooled and iced, Johanna cut into them and laid a slice of each on plates for her and Jim. "Are you ready for our first taste test?" she asked.
"I'm ready," he replied as he picked up his fork. "Which one do you want to start with?"
"This one," she said, pointing to the slice of cake that was decorated with a pale pink frosting.
"The girly cake," Jim remarked as he stabbed his fork into it.
"I think the pink icing is supposed to indicate the peppermint," Johanna replied as she picked up her own fork.
"Then it should be red."
"You have to be careful with some red frostings," she told him. "For some reason, the flavor of a red frosting can be different from other colored frostings."
"I'll take your word for it," he said as he took a bite of the cake. He frowned as he chewed, looking across the table for Johanna's reaction but she seemed to be masking it as she took another small bite. "Well?" he asked.
"It's bland," she replied. "I don't taste the flavoring the way I expected. What do you think?"
"I hate the icing."
She smiled. "Because it's girly or because you don't like the taste?"
"I don't like the taste, it's too sweet," Jim replied. "I didn't taste any peppermint in the cake part and I know you used the peppermint extract it called for, I watched you put it in."
"I know…we'll say cake number one is a fail," Johanna remarked. "Let's try the other one."
Jim pulled the other piece of cake forward and wiped off his fork on a napkin before he stabbed it into the cake that had white icing. He put the bite in his mouth and had to force himself to chew and swallow it. "I hate it," he declared before Johanna could even ask. "Way too much peppermint in this one."
"I agree," she said with a frown as she reached for her glass of soda to wash it down. "I told you I thought that recipe called for a little much when it came to peppermint."
"You did say that…but I don't think I would've liked this one even if you had tweaked it based on your hunch. It just isn't right."
"Back to the drawing board," Johanna replied as she got up from the table. "I have some bakery boxes in that far cupboard," she said, pointing in the direction of it. "Get two out and put those cakes in them; we'll give them away if someone wants to take them."
"You're starting cake three now?" he asked as he did what he had been told.
"Yes," she answered. "And once it's in the oven for a little while, I'll mix up cake four."
"Can't we take a break?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Because you don't just take a break this early in the mission," she retorted.
"Fine; you keep working, I'll go watch TV until you're ready for the tasting portion," Jim stated as he finished putting the cakes into boxes.
"Bored of my company already?" Johanna asked.
"Not bored of you, just bored of the cake baking process."
"We're barely started."
"So now we know I would've never made it as a chef," he replied. "Let's just forget it and go out and do something. I'll take you ice skating if you want; didn't you mention that you wanted to go skating?"
"I do want to go skating…but I also want to find the right peppermint cake recipe."
"Why's it so important?"
"Because it's Christmas and it's a part of my childhood memories."
"Sweetheart; sometimes memories are just that, memories; they can't be recreated."
She poured her cake mix into a bowl and narrowed her eyes at him. "If you didn't want to help me you could've just said so."
"You know I can't say no when you're using you feminine charms on me."
Johanna sighed. "Feel free to drop out of the project; I can test them on my own."
"Why don't we both drop out? There are better things to do."
She shook her head. "If you want to go do something, go ahead. I won't be mad."
"You will be."
"I won't," she said sincerely. "Go."
"We could probably find a peppermint cake in one of the million bakeries in this city, Jo."
"It's not the same."
"Why."
"Because I didn't make it!" she exclaimed. "I want something to be mine."
"How can it be yours when you're using someone else's recipe?"
"These recipes are in the public domain," Johanna remarked. "No one else in my family makes this kind of cake."
"What's that got to do with anything?" he asked.
"Everything I make I learned from my mother and my grandmother, there are even a few things I learned from my great grandmother. Mom has her white icing and Grandma has her biscotti. I want something that's mine…my specialty. Something I only make at Christmas like Grandma does. A big part of the holidays in my family are baking things, making things that people look forward to. Everyone looks forward to Grandma's biscotti…Mom makes her icing all the time but at Christmas everyone looks forward to her fudge. I want my own thing…it may sound crazy to you, but it's not to me."
"Did you ever think that maybe your family puts too much stock into baked goods? It has to add to the holiday stress. My mother bakes a few cookies and we call it a day."
"In my family everything is important at Christmas," Johanna replied. "Everything is more special. My mother always says that food is an expression of love; that if love goes into whatever you're making for the people you care about, it's going to taste even better."
He couldn't help but chuckle. "I guess my mother doesn't feel the love all the time then…especially at Christmas. She makes a big meal and a few cookies and that's it. She doesn't over do it or stress over it. We don't make a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be."
She frowned. "You don't like Christmas much, do you?"
"I like Christmas!" he exclaimed. "I just try not to stress about it like some people."
"I'm not stressed; I just like cake," Johanna retorted. "I want a specific cake, I want to make it myself, I want it to be my own thing and if you don't want to help me, you don't have to. Go be a bah humbug in front of the TV or go out and see if little Jeff Campbell wants to play today."
He smiled. "I didn't mean to offend you and your long family history of baking."
"I'm not offended; I just have work to do."
She was offended, he thought to himself. He should back away and let her forget that he had stuck his foot over that line. "Yell when you're ready for the cakes to be tested," he told her.
Johanna waved him off without a word, her attention on the next recipe in her pile. He sighed; lesson number 345 in the game of women, never tell them their efforts in the kitchen were over the top or unnecessary. He moved into the living room and settled down on the sofa and grabbed the remote; he'd just take a little break…and reconcile the thought that we was marrying into a family where baked goods were clearly something not to be trifled with.
A short while later, Jim heard the oven door closing and the kitchen timer being set. His fiancée swept into the room a moment later with a magazine in hand and settled down in the arm chair. "You're not setting with me?" Jim asked.
"No," she replied.
"Why not? You sat with me while the last two cakes baked."
"That was then," Johanna replied; "This is now."
"What's different between then and now?"
"You know what the difference is," she answered. "You want me to give up my mission."
Jim sighed. "Only because it's a little ridiculous to bake seven cakes…and possibly hate them all. You already didn't like two of them…after the third let's just call it a day in the kitchen and we'll go out to a few bakeries and see what we can find. It's less work for you that way."
"I don't mind the work," she stated; "And I already explained to you why this matters to me; why can't you see that? Do I tell you not to watch all the games of the World Series? Because I have to tell you; I think it's a bit ridiculous that the same two teams have to play so many games to decide a winner. I'm pretty sure three would suffice."
"Really?" Jim asked; "You're going to compare baking to baseball?"
"Yes, I am," she replied. "You don't mind sitting through ten ballgames but you can't stand to go through the baking process with me…and I'm pretty sure I sat through those games with you with the exception of one."
"Okay; first of all, it's not ten games…"
"Just feels like it," Johanna quipped.
Jim smirked at her. "As I was saying, it's not ten games; it's seven…and this year it wasn't even seven; it was four."
"Four not entirely exciting games," she remarked.
"I highly doubt that you paid attention to most of it," Jim replied. "In fact, I recall that you were re-reading Gone with the Wind because you had finally bought your own copy instead of borrowing it from the library."
"I still recall the games and I didn't complain," she stated.
"I think your nose in the book was enough indication that you weren't fully invested."
"I must've been invested somewhat," Johanna replied; "After all, I know the Yankees lost…they lost all four games…they lost them really badly too."
Jim glared at her. "That's cruel, Johanna."
She nodded. "Cruel but true; your team lost and they lost badly."
He scoffed. "It was just a small string of bad luck; they'll be back next season; you'll see."
"Uh huh; sure they will."
"They will!" he exclaimed; "What do you know about baseball anyway?"
"Only what you've taught me, darling; and you taught me that a team that loses four games in a row isn't a very good team at all…at least that's what you said about that one team that wasn't the Yankees."
"The Yankees will do better next season; you mark my words!"
She smiled as she casually flipped the pages in her magazine. "You get a little riled up about your baseball, don't you?"
"It's the best sport there is," he declared; "And my team doesn't serve being maligned."
"Oh come now; a little maligning might be deserved for such a bad loss in the series…don't you think you might put a little too much importance on these games? Would it really be so horrible for the world of baseball if the Yankees had a little slump for awhile?"
"Of course it would!"
"Now, dear; don't you think you're getting a little worked up over silliness?" she asked with a raised brow and a pointed look that made him want to fight her and kiss her all at the same time.
"Are you goading me?" he asked.
"Would I do that?" she responded with false innocence.
"I think you would."
"Oh I wouldn't call it goading," she remarked as she laid her magazine on the arm of the chair.
"No?"
"No…more like slapping your words back in your face," Johanna answered. "Funny how that happens, isn't it?"
"You think you're cute, don't you?"
She smiled sassily. "I've been told that I'm adorable."
"Mhmm; you're adorable alright but it looks like I'm going to have to teach you a lesson."
"Oh?" she asked; "About what?"
"About this behavior of yours," he replied; "I don't think a proper wife sasses her husband quite so much especially when it comes to his favorite sport and team."
Johanna laughed. "Apparently you've been misinformed…after all; if it's wrong for a wife to sass the husband about his team; it should be equally wrong for the husband to sass the wife about her cake baking."
"The husband is the head of the household and allowed to sass about cake baking since he's the boss," Jim quipped.
His fiancée smiled. "Aww, it's always so cute when you're delusional."
His brow arched, mischief in his eyes. "Delusional? About which statement am I delusional?"
Her laughter rang out loudly. "Well I should think it would be obvious; that part about being the boss…and the sassing of the cake baking…which I can say with certainty that if that continues; you will not eat any of my cakes again."
"Now that is just cruel and unusual punishment, Miss McKenzie and that is against the law," Jim replied.
"Is that so?" she teased. "Well just what are you going to do about it?"
He laughed. "Oh I'm going to have to teach you that lesson," he said as he got up from the sofa.
Johanna bounded to her feet and took off for the kitchen, Jim racing behind her, trying to corner her but she kept dashing just out of reach of his hands. "Hold still and take your lesson like a proper young lady," he told her.
She burst into laughter. "I never clamed to be a proper lady…lucky for you."
"That does it," Jim said; mischief all over his face. "You're going to get it now."
"Oh yeah; just how do you propose to accomplish that feat?"
Jim glanced around the kitchen and noted the bag of flour was still open and sitting on the cupboard. He casually reached into the bag and picked up a handful, giving her a menacing look as he did so.
"Don't you dare!" Johanna said; pointing a finger at him.
"Don't dare what?" he asked.
"You know what!"
"Do I?" Jim questioned. "Could you possibly mean, don't do this?" he asked as he tossed the flour at her, hitting her in the chin.
"You are going to pay for that!" she exclaimed.
"Oh am I?" he laughed. "You seem to be without a weapon…you're going to lose, sweetheart."
"You think so?" she asked; eyeing the bowl of leftover icing from the first cake that was still sitting on the table. She grabbed the spatula, sweeping up a large glob of pink icing and flinging it at him; managing to hit him in the face with it. "Looks like I'm armed after all."
"Now you're really going to have to be punished," he remarked, swiping the icing off his face and flinging it back at her. She dodged the move; flinging another spatula full of icing at him.
"So you want to play that way?" Jim asked; tossing more flour in her direction and then grabbing another bowl of icing that sat on the counter.
"Not that icing!" she exclaimed. "That's for the next cake."
"Isn't that a pity?" Jim said sarcastically as he threw a glob at her, managing to land it in her hair.
"You jerk!"
Jim laughed. "Now don't talk about your future husband like that; really, Jo; you're just going to have to learn lessons all weekend if you keep this up."
"Me! I think you're going to need a few lessons…like how to properly treat the icing that I just made for a cake that isn't even done baking yet!"
"Oh I'm so upset about that," Jim said sarcastically. "Here, taste it and see if it was really worth saving," he said; flinging another glob of it at her.
"You are in so much trouble," Johanna said as she swiped away a small splatter of icing that had landed close to her eye.
"You're the one who's in trouble," he replied; flicking the spatula at her again.
"We'll just see about that," she retorted; sending a glob of the rejected icing at him and hitting him in the side of the face.
"You know what this means, don't you?" he asked.
"What?"
"This means war," Jim declared; lobbing another handful of flour that he managed to grab from the bag.
She shrieked as she tried to dodge the flour. The fight ensued, both of them flinging any ingredient they could find as they chased each other around the kitchen. By the time Jim had caught hold of Johanna, they were both covered in icing, flour, sugar and any number of other ingredients. His fiancée tried to squirm away from him but Jim trapped her by the table, pushing her back down against it and lightly capturing her wrists; looking down at her with a victorious gleam in his eyes. "Let me go," she laughed.
"Not until you say the Yankees are the best team in the universe," he told her.
"How can I say that when they lost four straight games in the World Series?"
Jim smirked at her. "I see you still haven't learned your lesson," he said; holding her wrists with one hand as he reached into a bowl and scooped up the last glob of icing and did his best to smear it on her face but she kept turning her head away, laughing as she did so, causing him to trail most of it down her neck. "Say it," he demanded with a laugh.
"Never!"
"Don't make me dump the flour in your hair," he told her. "Say the Yankees are the best."
She arched a brow at him. "Say homemade cake mix is better than boxed!"
"I haven't made that decision yet," he replied; "But the Yankees are waiting for your loyalty."
"Oh yeah? Where's my loyalty?"
He grinned. "Now, Sweetheart; you know I'm loyal to you."
"And yet you want to abandon the mission you willingly volunteered to take."
"I wasn't aware of the full extent of the mission."
"Doesn't matter; you accepted, so there," she said, sticking her tongue out at him for added effect.
Jim laughed. "Now is that any way for a professional woman like you to act?"
"When dealing with a man like you, absolutely," Johanna remarked.
"I'm still waiting for you to say that the Yankees are the best and will have a wonderful next season."
"That wasn't in the original demand."
"Doesn't matter," he replied, smacking her words back at her and sticking his tongue out as well.
Johanna squirmed and tried to step on his foot which only made him laugh and tickle her. "Stop, stop," she said with breathless giggles. "I surrender!"
"Say it or I egg your hair," Jim remarked; reaching for an egg he spied on the table.
"Don't you dare!"
"Then you better say it," he teased, his fingers gripping the egg a little tighter as if he was going to crack it.
"The Yankees are the best!" she exclaimed.
"That's a good girl," Jim said, putting the egg down and releasing her.
She couldn't help but giggle as she brushed back a wayward lock of hair. "I'm a mess," she stated; looking down at herself, her clothes and skin splattered with icing and flour.
"A beautiful mess though," Jim remarked; his fingers raking her hair back from her face and then trailing along the curve of her cheek, warmth and love in his eyes.
Johanna smiled; her fingertips caressing his jaw. "Only in your eyes."
"My eyes are the only ones that matter," he said; his tone low, sending a shiver through her as he caught her lips in a kiss.
The atmosphere suddenly crackled with passion; their kisses growing more heated as he pulled her into his arms, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt and moving lazily against the small of her back. The timer for the cake went off, startling them and forcing Johanna to break away from his intoxicating kisses. "The cake," she murmured.
"Let it burn," he replied; his lips moving to the side of her neck.
"I can't do that."
"You can; we'll make another one…after a break."
She gently pushed away from him and shut off the timer; grabbing the potholder so that she could grab the cake from the oven and set it on the messy counter to cool. Jim's hands were around her waist as soon as the oven door closed. "Break time," he murmured against her ear.
"Is it?"
"Mhmm…you know I didn't like this icing on the cake but I don't mind it on you," he quipped; his lips returning to her neck.
Her fingers slipped into his hair, giving it a gentle tug to urge his lips back to hers as she shifted against him without thought. "I guess we could take a little break," she whispered.
Jim smiled. "That's right…the law requires a break during work, you know."
A grin curved her lips upwards. "We wouldn't want to break the law."
"No, we wouldn't," he remarked as he lifted her off her feet; her legs wrapping around his waist. "You're smart to listen to your attorney."
Johanna smiled; the cake and the mess forgotten as he headed for the doorway of the kitchen. "You have my undivided attention, counselor…for however long this break of ours lasts."
"I'm not a man to hurry through a break," he replied. "It might take awhile."
"That's completely fine with me…I'm not a woman to be rushed myself," she murmured seductively as they moved through the living room.
"Then we agree to an extended break," Jim remarked; "And I'm going to hold you to that agreement…and no cake shall break the agreement or there's going to be serious litigation against you, Miss McKenzie."
Johanna laughed. "You don't have to worry, Mr. Beckett; I'm all yours…now let's put an end to the terms and conditions and move on to that break we seem to be in need of."
"My thoughts exactly," he replied as he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and carefully put her down, his mouth capturing hers before she could utter another word.
