My Best Friend Sold Me, So I Went to Poison My Mate novel · Chapter 14 of 24

Chapter 14: Lemon Tart

The first lemon tart came out flat.

Oren stood over it at the kitchen island on the Friday of the fourth week, with flour on his nose.

His coffee tin stood open beside the mixing bowl.

Six thousand two hundred and twelve dollars in small bills, and he had just spent forty of them on butter.

"It's not supposed to be gray," Pip said from the stool.

"It's not gray. It's golden."

"It's gray with golden feelings."

"Shut up." Oren poked the crust. It cracked. "Mine always come out flat."

"I told you at the club. You can't make pastry with your hands that warm."

"My hands aren't warm."

"They're always warm. That's the problem." Pip's eye had healed to a yellow shadow. He grinned with his chipped tooth. "Ask the alpha."

Ilse, passing through the kitchen with a stack of papers, stopped.

She looked at the tart.

She looked at Oren.

"I'll be at a friend's," she said. "Tell me when it's safe to come home."

"It's not that kind of tart," Oren said.

"With you two, it's always that kind."

She left.

Pip laughed until he had to hold his ribs.

By five Oren had made three more, and the fourth was good.

The crust was thin and golden, the filling set, and the top glossy with sugar.

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