Baking with Zak is  somewhat...
Eventful.

I wasn't sure if he was trying to be cute, but his constant need for reassurance, that he was doing it right was adorable and I couldn't help but praise him up every time. We had made flapjacks, which were now cooling along side the soon to be gingerbread skeletons. I stood back and watched as Zak followed a recipe online on how to make brownies and so far it was going well.

"So now I whisk this shit up and boom. Brownies." He says.

I chuckle "Uh huh. Have you put Vanilla extract in?"

"Is that the weird brown liquid?"

"Yes."

"Then nope. Do I need too? It's a bit strange to have it in brownies, no?" He asks, picking it up from the island where we had all the ingredients laid out.

"I prefer it. It makes them taste better. You only need a little." I tell him as he cracks the top and almost pours half the bottle in.

"Oops.. What is next? After we do these?"

I look at the counter top now "Will the guys be able to eat all this?"

"Me and Billy probably consume this much whilst we review, we will get through it all right. Without a problem." He tells me. The idea perks me up and I grab the tablet to search up more recipes. "We still making cupcakes and cookies, yeah?"

"Absolutely." I reply as he begins placing the brownie batter into a square tin that I had greased and lined with baking parchment.

Once they were in the oven, he begins picking up the ingredients that I call out to him for the cupcakes. When he has it all set out, we take it step by step, together because I have noticed he gets heavy handed with a few ingredients.

When I called him out on it, he said it was an improved recipe.... Improved by him.

I'm setting out the cupcake trays that I am surprised he even owned when I realise he is quiet.. Too quiet. Looking up, I find him with a spoon, scraping up the batter and sneaking it into his mouth.

"Zak! No!" I laugh.

"But it tastes so good! This is my childhood, right here. Nostalgia!" He moans going for another spoonful.

"Is salmonella in that nostalgia? You're eating raw eggs." I tell him, trying to take the spoon off him. "Will you give that up, I thought you wanted to add blueberries to them?"

"I do." He muffles with the spoon sticking out of his mouth.

Shaking my head, I grab the blueberries from the fridge as he turns on the electric whisk again, preparing to mix them in. I walk over with the punnet, set on dumping them in, when Zak lifts the whisk up to give me room....

With the freakin' whisk still on!

Batter flings everywhere. Over him, over me, over the counter and even up the cupboard doors.

"Turn it off!" I laugh as he gasps and shoves it back into the bowl with so much force it scuttles away from him.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck!"

When the whisk is finally shut off, I look at Zak and instantly laugh seeing batter across his face. "Wha- How?" I ask a little lost for words.

"I have no idea what I was thinking then. Jesus Christ. You... You got it in your hair."

I plant my hands on my hips and try to look a little annoyed, but we are both covered,  I can't maintain the look and start laughing again.

"Well I'll go get it out of my hair, you clean some of this up. I'll get you another t-shirt too." I tell him, pointing to the mess he has made.

"Good idea."

Walking through his house, I am still laughing to myself and slip into his bedroom and head for the bathroom.

Washing my hands, I get to work on removing batter from my hair and face, grimacing when it refuses to come out of my hair and instead smudges down the strands.

It takes a few minutes but once I'm satisfied that it is gone, I redo my hair and head into his wardrobe to get us both a top. I snag a black one for him and shed my top for one out of my bag that I've ditched in here. I'm just heading back when he calls for me to grab him a fresh pair of socks too.

I don't know why he needs them, I go back into the wardrobe and go through almost every draw until I find the one he keeps his socks in. Diving my hand in, I yelp.

Pulling my hand out, I find that the tip of my finger had drawn blood from something sharp that had stabbed me.

Frowning, I peer into the draw and poke a pair of socks out the way to see a wild west sheriffs badge open and the pin looking at me menacingly. I shut the badge up properly and flip it over for safety when I spot a set of hand cuffs and snag them up.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" I ask spinning them on my finger. They get stuffed in my back pocket as I head back to him, a hint of mischief in my mind.

Sliding, into the kitchen is probably the most fitting word, as the floor is wet and Zak is cussing to himself.

"What happened?"

I hadn't been gone that long, had I?

"I threw Gracie's ball, she skidded on the floor and knocked over her water bowl."

"Is she alright?" I ask before glancing towards the garden, where she is currently sat under the veranda waiting for the rain to stop.

"Oh she is fine. It's me that has wet socks on and has to clear it all up."

I laugh gently and walk over to him, patting him on the back. "Just can't get a break huh?"

He scoffs a laugh, as I put the t-shirt and socks on the side for whenever he is ready. Judging from the floor, he would be better off waiting...

"What is the sheriff badge for?" I ask him.

"In my sock draw?"

I nod. "I stabbed my finger on the pin, I've closed it and flipped it over."

"Ouch, that sounds more painful that walking around in wet socks." He replies lifting his feet to show me.

"I don't know. I hate wet socks... But, I found these too." I reply, pulling out the handcuffs.

He pauses looking between the cuffs and myself for a few seconds, then he seems to click with an idea. "Oh you think I got a kink?"

"So you don't use these in the bedroom?" I ask.

Ever the flirt, Zak quirks his brow and shifts himself a little closer. "Is that something you are into?"

His voice has shifted a little lower and the twinkle in his eye switches my mood. He smirks, almost knowingly and sets his arms either side of me, trapping me against the side.

"I've always had vanilla." I reply looking up at him.

"And you'd like to try some spice?" He probes leaning down and into my space.

"Are you the man for the job? You said you don't have a kink... But you have these?" I reply.

"I use them for lockdowns."

"So they're not for role play in the bedroom? For when you arrest someone?" I ask.

"What if I arrested you?"

"Haven't you heard? I'm the new sheriff in town." I purred, shaking the cuffs at him.

His eyes sparkle with lust and maybe some desire but before I could open the second handcuff, his mouth was on mine, stealing my breath. His lips crush against mine with ferocity and need, that I surrender to what he wants and open my mouth letting him in. He tastes sweet, from the cake batter he had been eating earlier.

The weight of his body pushing against mine, increases the fire that had been burning away gently all week, now it was hotter, brighter and bigger.

Cold metal clicks around my wrist and I feel my lips tug up in a smile, at the thought of being handcuffed to him. Long gone was the thought of baking, because I had found something else better to do with our time.

Cupping my face with one hand, his mouth leaves mine and begins devouring my neck, making my knees weak and head swirl. He manages  to pull a shuddering breath from my body as my head rolls back.

The fire was increasing, being close to spreading like a wild fire. I try to reach up but when my hand snags, I moan and use my other hand to pull him down by the back of his neck, wanting and waiting for a little boost to get on the counter.

He chuckles against my throat and moves back to my mouth luring me further away from reality and into this new place filled with passion and fire.

I'm about to pull away from his mouth and tell him exactly what I want and it doesn't involve being in the kitchen when he pulls away suddenly.

Instead, I whimper and go to close the gap when I am pulled back. Glancing over at my wrist, I find that he has cuffed me to the cupboard by the handle.

"Now.. This is my town and you will obey the law." He smirks.

I wet my lips and take a breather. "You sure are something.."

"You betcha sweet ass I am. You look a little flushed there.."

"It's warm in here."

"No. It isn't." He teases.

I'm about to demand that he takes these damn cuffs off and prove his worth at being the sheriff in this town by taking me to cloud nine, when the phone rings. I stop wriggling to look for the phone and realise it's not my phone, because that has been on aeroplane mode all week, avoiding any interruption.

It's not Zak's because he walks past it without a thought and picks up his house phone instead..

I have been here a week and not heard it ring once.

"Hello?" He answers looking at me, cuffed to the counter, a shit eating grin across his face.

Whoever is on the other end speaks, causing that grin to evaporate instantly.

"Now? As in, right this second?"

There is a pause as someone on the other end of the line speaks.

"Shit.. Yeah no, no worries. I'm just... Well I won't tell you." He says. "Thanks for letting me know."

He hangs up the phone.

"You need to take those off." He says to me, looking around his kitchen.

"Why? What's happened?" I ask sensing a hard shift in his emotions and the atmosphere around us.

"That was security at the front gate." He says shedding his top quickly and grabbing the fresh one.

"Okay.."

"El, the cuffs."

"Tell me what is happening." I demand, turning to work on getting the handcuffs off.

"The police, they are coming here to talk to me."

"You? About what?!" I ask bewildered.

"I have no fucking idea, but being cuffed to my counter isn't going to help!" He stresses.

"I haven't got the freakin' key! I didn't see it! I didn't expect to be here either!" I panic.

"Me either, I would have liked to have subtracted a lot more clothes first.." He looks at me with longing, until I snap my fingers in his face.

"Hey, buddy. Back in the room. You got the police coming and we don't know why! Help me! Get the key!"

"Key? Key! I'll get the key!" He says running out the kitchen.

"Exactly what I said." I murmur, trying to pull the hand cuff apart and failing spectacularly.

It feels like a lifetime and I'm about to yell for Zak when he appears by the kitchen door.

"El, catch! They are here!" He calls, tossing the keys towards me as the doorbell rings.

Amidst the panic and worry, the throw he gives is pitiful and the keys land just outside my reach making me gasp. I try and reach them, but the draw doesn't move, making me realise that it's a fake draw.

WHO THE HELL HAS FAKE DRAWS?!

"Hello officer!" I hear Zak speak, louder than normal to let me know that they are here, in the house and I'm still cuffed to a fucking draw!

I can imagine the fire department getting called, the idea of someone finding out about this and it being put on some gossip rag website causing Zak to be completely mortified.

I needed those keys, I was not being found like this. No way in hell!

-------------------------------------

AN; Any thoughts on why the police are at the door?

Fact; This idea came to me three days ago and I've being thinking about it nonstop, now it's down, I'm happy. Onto the next chapter!

Will the police meet Elle in cuffs?

Also shout out to ChasingShadows89

For her constant support and guidance for when I'm having a wobbler about what to do next. Without this girl, this story wouldn't be half as much fun. She is my go to person and is the one who suggested Elle bumps into Cole, one last time.