Page 74 of Jasper
“The Christmas cookies you bought are all gone,” Mason informed Jo. “Mateo and I went looking for some, and the container was empty. Grown-ass men eating all the cookies.”
“Language,” she and Jo both said.
Mason sighed. “I swear, you women…he’s heard worse from his father. ‘Ass’ is not a bad word.”
“Yes, it is.” Jo wiggled out of his grasp. “I guess I should go buy more since you two didn’t get any.”
“I can make some if they have the right ingredients in the kitchen,” Sloane offered.
“You can make cookies?” Mateo’s eyes lit up.
“I sure can.”
“Mama can’t. She burns them.”
Mason fought hard to keep the laugh from escaping. Sloane wanted to laugh herself when he turned his head away to hide his grin.
“She try, but is not good.”
“Tell you what. How about we put the kittens up for a nap, and then we’ll go make enough cookies for you take some home?”
He jumped up faster than a firecracker and helped her wrangle the miniature furry beasts. She held out her hand, and he slipped his into hers easily, walking along beside her to the kitchen. She was very aware of the silence that followed her. Was she not supposed to feed him sugar or something?
She spent the next two hours baking cookies of every kind she could think of and had ingredients for, showing both Jo and Mateo how to make them.
Josephine was a hazard to herself, she soon discovered. The girl was a walking disaster, tripping and falling over her own two feet. She told her to sit before she killed herself. Mason shot her a grateful look.
They chatted, and she was surprised to learn the two of them had YouTube channels. Sloane had never really gotten into the YouTube craze and rarely looked at it unless she needed Photoshop help.
“You worked onMiami Nights?” Jo squealed when Sloane told her. “Oh, my God. I love that show. Did Brett really break up with Denise?”
“Those guys are…not good people. Don’t waste your time.”
“Really?” Jo scrunched up her nose.
“Really. I had to threaten to file a sexual harassment charge to keep one of them away from me.”
“Fuckers,” Mason muttered as he helped Mateo decorate a Santa cookie.
Jo threw a spoonful of icing at him. “Language!”
“You did not.” He grabbed the entire bowl of red icing he’d been spooning into a makeshift piping bag.
“Don’t you do it!” Jo hopped off the stool but fell flat on her butt.
“Too easy.” Mason flung a spoonful at Sloane instead. It landed smack in the middle of her cheek.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with,” she warned him, picking up her own icing bowl. “I was on the championship softball team four years running.”
“Baby, stay down.” He handed a bowl to Mateo. “Ready to defend our winning streak?”
The boy nodded, grinning like the devil his uncle was.
Before she had time to react, globs of icing were being thrown at her, and she dropped and rolled, coming to rest behind the island. She scooped of spoonsful of icing and peeked out, throwing it at them while they reloaded.
Her aim was still as true as it ever was. One splat of green landed in Mateo’s hair, and the other hit Mason on the leg. Shame icing wasn’t heavy. It didn’t have the same throwing power as, say, a snowball.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
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