Look at me! I made bread! Trust me when I say that this is a momentous occasion. I once tried to make pizza crust and it turned out cracker thin, and another time I attempted bread and ended up with a rock. But then I moved into my new house and finally have a beautiful kitchen that is sorely underused–and yes, I realize that I’ve lived in said house for about a year now. I had to warm up to the idea first.

So feeling adventurous the other day, I snagged Suzanne’s recipe for Grandmother bread (psst, snag her recipe here.) I mixed, I kneaded, I waited….and then I baked:

And look! It worked! Now, granted it doesn’t look exactly like Suzanne’s. I’m still quite the bread newbie, you know, and I don’t think I shaped the loaves as well as I should have or divided the dough exactly in half (because one loaf seemed to rise more than the other loaf).  But, Success! It tasted wonderful and it is SO yummy as sandwich bread. And best of all…

I’m not afraid of yeast anymore! LOL!

I look up to see Cam lounging in the doorway. In typical Cam fashion he’s dressed in faded jeans, a god-awful Hawaiian print button-down shirt and black boots. His brown hair is mussed from the wind and he studies me from steely gray eyes.

He nods to my laptop. “Now that you’re done shining up your blog, you gonna get back to my story?”

My cheeks heat. A little procrastination never hurt anyone. Much.

I shrug. “I’m working on it.”

He lets out a long suffering sigh, punctuated with a groan. “Do I really have to bail that uppity scientist out of jail?”

I can’t keep the grin off my face. “Afraid so. Audra needs you.”

He scowls. “Couldn’t I just save the day and get the hell out?”

I level him a look over my laptop screen. “That wouldn’t be much of a story, now, would it?”

He grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like a curse.

“What was that?” I ask, brows raised.

He points his finger at me. “Fine. I’ll do it your way. But, remember, you owe me.”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“You’re the writer, you think of something.” He taps the door frame as he prepares to leave. “Be creative. And it better be good.”

Creative. Huh. My mind whirls with possibilities, all of them deliciously torturous for Cam, but I give him my most serious, most contemplative look. “I’ll try to think of something.”

He nods, satisfied, and leaves. A couple seconds later his head pops back in the open doorway. “Oh, and if it involves Audra, all the better.”

He gives me a long slow wink and then walks away. I stifle the urge to let out a villainous cackle. I rub my hands together. Audra and Cam have no idea what’s in store for them.