Somehow Elizabeth thought going to Snoozle for the Pecan Baking day would be a good idea for a date day. Neal was being watched by Lissa and Neal and Elizabeth got the pleasure of taking her husband to baking with pecans.
They were standing in the kitchen of Snoozle where El was doing her best not to crack up as she watched her husband accidentally hit the cup of flour he’d poured out. The flour was everywhere.
Everywhere.
Peter had two recipes he’d perfected. Outside of those two, dinners when Elizabeth was out of town often consisted of corn flakes and milk or microwaved pizza. Pecan pie was not one of his specialties. He tried to sweep the flour off the table into a trash can and found himself surrounded by a fine, powdery cloud. It was even in his hair. Peter saw his wife trying not to laugh and shot her a quelling look. The effect was entirely spoiled by the fact that he looked like a floury ghost. “Don’t laugh,” he said.
Shaking as she tried to keep her laughter in she even tried to pretend to frown. At his words, though she burst out unable to hold it in anymore.
“I don’t think you’ve ever looked so handsome hon,” she said after getting her laughter under control.
“I look like one of Casper’s uncles,” muttered Peter. He checked the bag of flour, righted the measuring cup and tried again. Once the flour was safely in the bowl, he said triumphantly, “There. Not that hard.”
“I don’t know, Casper had slightly different coloring, maybe a bleached bread flour instead of all purpose,” she teased keeping an eye on him as he safely measured the flour. “I promise to let you pick the next date night adventure.” She offered.
“Different coloring?” said Peter after he was done.“Like this?” He reached over and brushed his thumb across her cheek, leaving a streak of the off-white flour from his hands behind. He grinned mischievously. “You know, that is kind of attractive.” With a glance at their fellow baking students, who all seemed to be distracted, he leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Baking isn’t so bad.”
Playfully swatting at his hand she reached up with the back of her hand to get the flour off of her face but only managed to spread it more. Despite the attempt to glare at her husband, she blushed with a smile looking down.
“You think so?” She asked with a dangerous look in her eye.
Peter Burke had not been an FBI agent for years for nothing. He could spot a warning sign. Usually. Particularly when his wife wore that look. “I think,” he said, turning quickly to the recipe in front of them. “We should see what the next ingredient is.”
Laughing she moved to stand next to him looking at the recipe. “Do you think you can manage the sugar without getting it all over yourself?” She teased kissing his cheek. “That might get a little sticky hon.”
Peter puffed out his chest. “I am forty-two years old and a federal agent-” Or he was in New York. That was an odd thought. “-I think I can manage to pour a cup of sugar.” He waved the measuring cup for emphasis.
“So, being a federal agent gives you special power over sugar huh?” El teased as her eyes followed the measuring cup. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” She added as she looked down to what she was mixing.
Peter smiled at his wife. After all the turmoil of the past month, it was good to be able to be able to relax and enjoy a day out together. Even if that day meant struggling with a flour and sugar. “I’m not going to be defeated by baked goods,” he said.
“Oh, I have to sit back and watch you battle out the baked goods, this is one battle too good to miss watching,” El said as she made a show of pouring a little more wine into her glass, grabbing a stool and sitting down.