"You had one task." Sophie had followed Thomas into the kitchen, not expecting to walk into a disaster zone.

The acrid fumes caught in her throat before she saw the charred remains of what was to be dessert. The lack of oxygen did nothing to quell the fire in her chest at this playboy's error.

"My alarm..." Thomas pulled his phone from his pocket, like the device was a time machine and he could undo his error. "It didn't go off or—"

"I need pies, not excuses." Eyes the color of the moss met hers and a dash of remorse at her harsh words sprinkled over the panic creeping up her spine. She glanced away and headed for the back office. "Maybe there's something left in the emergency fund, and I can run to the 7-Eleven and buy some—" her stomach lurched at the concept — "packaged pies."

She paused in the doorway and a hard chest bumped against her back, followed by an "oof". The flirty touch of Thomas from before had disappeared, and his proximity only managed to irk her further. "Do you mind?"

"I can fix this."

"How?" Sophie forced her teeth to unclench. "There's a hundred kids out there who are expecting dessert."

Thomas pulled out his wallet. "I'll go buy the pies. And anything else they have. I'll make this right."

Great. The rich boy was going to throw money at the problem. These people deserved a decent home-cooked meal, and she'd been determined to provide. It was a point of pride to make everything from scratch, create healthy and delicious food that was more than just checking a box on a charity's to do list.

Still, they had no other option.

"It's my fault." Matt stood in the middle of the kitchen, kneading his beanie between his two hands. "I turned off your alarm." The boy hung his head. "We kept getting interrupted and you're the only decent player to walk in here in weeks."

Cold water dumped on the flames of ire she'd been fanning. Today was more than just a meal for many who visited the shelter. For Matt, it was an opportunity, an escape from the toils of his every day. A single mother who worked two jobs, one of which was as a server at Rouge, which kept her out of the house long hours, on weekends and holidays. She was across town right now, serving people like Thomas while her son hung out at the shelter, so he wouldn't be alone on Thanksgiving.

Sophie moved to console the boy, but Thomas got there first. "Hey." He placed a hand on Matt's shoulder. "You're the best opponent I've had in months. My dad hasn't had time for a match in I don't know how long." The corner of his mouth twitched, and Sophie wondered if it was at a pleasant memory or from regret. Thomas dipped his head. "How about I come back this weekend and we play a proper game? Uninterrupted."

Matt's head shot up and Sophie's lungs constricted at the look of hope in the boy's eyes. "You mean it?"

This time she could tell Thomas's smile was genuine, a dimple forming on his left cheek, his eyes glinting. "Are you kidding? Miss my chance to clear the board without even touching my queen. You couldn't keep me away."

And just like that, the warmth spreading under Sophie's sweater had nothing to do with disappointment. The man before her, who she was ready to take his lack of consideration as an act of sabotage, might actually be sincere. Okay, he looked very sincere as he looped an arm over Matt's shoulders and the heat shot south and pooled in her abdomen.

"Still, we have to fix this." The lava surged at Thomas's use of the word we. In that moment, she didn't feel alone in this foreign town. Here in the overpowering warmth of the shelter's kitchen, a sense of family wrapped around her like a cozy blanket.

Matt huffed in defeat. "What can I do?"

"How about you stall for time?" Sophie stepped forward. "Entertain folks out there while Thomas and I search for pumpkin pies." She focused on Matt, refusing to acknowledge the array of white teeth gleaming on Thomas's face at the mention of working together. This was an act out of necessity, not forgiveness.

"Me? No one will listen to me." Matt grumbled.

"Sure they will." Thomas guided Matt to the door. "Find Kaja, tell her what's happened and she'll know what to do."

With a way to help, the teen perked up. He nodded and pushed through the door to the dining hall. Sophie tugged at her apron strings. "The closest store is three blocks away. It'll take forever to get a car at this time on a holiday. We'll have to walk."

"Hold up." She spun around to face Thomas, who was heading in the opposite direction, walking into the pantry. He returned with the tins of pumpkin puree in his arms.

"We don't have time to remake the pies." Irritation flared again. He'd admitted to not knowing how to cook, but she'd thought he'd understood pie basics at this point. "And puree won't work in a pie."

His eyebrows raised like a flag at dawn. "But it will work in my mother's famous Pumpkin brownies."

"You said you don't cook?"

"I can't." Thomas placed the tins on the counter and walked to the rack of pots and pans. "I bake. It's different. You know what I mean."

Sophie stared at the back of Thomas's head, a mixture of annoyance and amusement swirling in her mind. Looked at from a certain perspective, there was a difference between baking and cooking, like the difference between dessert and a main dish.

He knelt down to inspect the bottom shelf. "Do you have baking pans?"

"Up here." Reaching up on her tiptoes, she yanked on one of the pans they used for birthday cakes. A solid hand on the small of her back waist steadied her, sending a flare of what she did not want to admit was desire up her spine.

"Let me."

The scent of Thomas's cologne, the hint of sage, surrounded her and her lungs betrayed her, inhaling deeply. Feet firmly on the floor, she retreated, creating space between them. He plucked a stack of three more pans off the shelf and placed the assortment of rectangles on the stainless steel counter.

"Four 13 x 9 pans..." His fingers flew up one by one like he was counting. "Yup. That works. We can double the recipe, then double it again. I've helped my mom make these for fundraisers."

"Your mother bakes?"

He skipped across the kitchen and punched numbers into the oven. The appliance ticked to life. "Still warm. Won't take too long to get to temperature." Thomas smiled at her. "My mom loves to bake. She says it's one of the ways to say I love you."

The sense of déjà vu hit her like a snowball to the face. One made of soft, fluffy snow that can barely maintain a cylindrical shape. Thomas's eyes twinkles and the room swayed before her. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. It was awfully warm in here again.

"Can you brown the butter?"

His question snapped the room back into focus. "Of course."

"Right." He rubbed his hands together as he surveyed the kitchen. "We need a mixing bowl."

Sophie retrieved a pot and set it on the stove. "Will this work?"

His sparking smile was like an arrow to her heart. "Trust me."

Oh, she'd heard those words before. "I did." She pointed to the ruined pies. "Didn't turn out too well for me."

The smile fell off his face. "I made a mistake. But I said I'd fix it. This will work." A glass bowl swayed in his hand. "But if you'd rather we go buy the pies, I'll get my coat. It's up to you."

Sophie blinked. The pot in her hand rattled against the burner. He was deferring to her choice, leaving the decision in her hands. Was this a tactic or someone taking her opinion into consideration? When was the last time someone did that? Since coming to New Haven, her world had been a constant battle, compromising to exist. Forced to move out of her apartment when Clay cheated, leaving her with nothing but a few suitcases. Stuck chopping onions and broccoli in the kitchen while watching the chef over cook the sole. Even here, in the shelter, she was forced to work with volunteers who dropped in for photo ops and left before the dirty dishes were stacked by the sink.

The latest volunteer watched her, waiting for an answer. If she refused his proposal now, she had no doubt he'd trudge around town with her to track down pies. This boy who could be spending the day with his family, but had instead volunteered to help out at a shelter. This student who resisted the attention of people like Brodie to play chess with a lonely teenager. This man who made promises with the intent of keeping them.

"Fine." She brushed her hands together, like she was dusting of a past full of regret. "We'll make brownies."

Slowly, a grin with enough wattage to challenge the sun broke across Thomas's face. "Great."

Sophie's heart pounded in her chest as he beamed at her. The far too familiar feeling of attraction knocked on her ribcage and she tore her gaze away before it bloomed into something more visceral. "Besides butter and pumpkin, what else do we need?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his fingers drum against the steel counter. "Sugar, Eggs, Vanilla." The digits stopped. "I'll gather the ingredients."

He retrieved butter from the fridge, along with a carton of eggs, and stacked them beside her. She split her time between watching the butter melt and following him as he flitted from fridge to pantry, like the squirrels scrambling for peanuts back home in Bryant Park.

A bottle of vanilla in hand, he peered into the pot. "Keep swirling the butter. Don't want it to burn."

"Oh right. Because we've had enough of that today." Green searched hers and the questioning hurt lacing them made it difficult to swallow. She tapped him on his bicep. "Too early?"

His face softened. "More like too late."

A crack of laughter burst out of her, and her free hand flew to her mouth to hide the outbreak. Between the responsibilities and disappointments of her new life, she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like that. Smart, kind, and good-looking made Thomas a triple threat to her senses. As if he read her mind, he covered her hand with his and the cackle died on her lips at being sandwiched between the soft skin of his fingers and the hard muscles of his arm. His thumb brushed against her index finger and tingles radiated along her arm, over her shoulder, and aimed straight for her heart. There was something she was supposed to be doing, but her gaze dropped to Thomas's lips, which seemed to be getting closer.

"Sophie." Her name from those lips had a reverent quality, like the benedictions her mother said at church after service every morning, and she found herself echoing the tone as his name slipped from her.

The kitchen door banged open and Kaja burst through. "Why is Matt re-enacting The Queen's Gambit out there?"

Thomas leapt away from her, his hand flying and smacking the eggs which threatened to topple. He gripped the carton and cradled them like a baby. Another trickle of laughter fell from Sophie's lips.

"Am I interrupting something?" Kaja folded her arms. "And what is that horrible smell?"

"We—"

Thomas cut her off. "I burnt the pies. But Sophie has a plan."

"It was your plan."

He straightened his shoulders. "We're making brownies. Pumpkin-flavored. Starting a new tradition."

Sophie liked the sound of that. Maybe New Haven didn't have to be that bad. She could start a new tradition here. Maybe more than one.

"How long will all this take?" Kaja swirled a finger at the counter, littered with ingredients.

"Sophie's almost done browning the butter. A few minutes to mix the ingredients and twenty-five minutes for baking." He held out his hands. "Can you hold off the crowd that long?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"We'll line the pans with foil so we can lift them straight out and place on platters." He turned back to Sophie and the heat from a moment ago hit her full force. His gaze slid sideways like he was also resisting temptation. "Do you have any chocolate chips?"

She frowned. "Not a typical donation. Chocolate is expensive."

"Drat." He measured flour into the bowl. "Chocolate is my secret ingredient."

"Not everyone likes chocolate."

Thomas made a face like she'd suggested robbing a bank. "Who doesn't like chocolate?"

"Sophie." Kaja strode across the kitchen and disappeared into the office.

"What?" A fine line formed between his eyebrows. "What's not to like about chocolate?"

She shrugged. "Just never been my thing." Her eyes locked onto his, as if daring him to mock her choice.

He shook his head slowly. "You amaze me."

"She amazes us all." Kaja placed a box on the counter. "Will these do?"

Sophie turned off the heat on the stove, setting the browned butter aside, and lifted the cardboard lid. Inside were packages of white chocolate chips. She pulled out two bundles. "Where did you get these?"

"They came in the day after Halloween. Someone didn't end up making ghost cookies or something." Kaja straightened her silver hair. "I was saving them for your birthday. Thought we could make those cranberry bars you like from the café down the street."

Sophie wrapped her arms around Kaja. "That's so sweet."

"Literally," Thomas quipped from behind her. "Thought you didn't like chocolate?"

Sophie let go of Kaja. "Technically, white chocolate isn't chocolate. It's sugar, cocoa butter, and milk product mixed together."

"Technically."

Kaja rubbed her back. "You've been so good to us. I wanted to show you what you mean to us. Where I come from, you show love through food."

Sophie shot a glance at Thomas and then smiled at Kaja. "I've heard that before."

Thomas stepped forward. "These are perfect."

"Excellent." Kaja headed for the exit. "I'll help Matt entertain the crowd while you two whip up some magic."

Beside her, Thomas echoed Kaja. "Magic."

Hi all, D L here. I gotta know, did you see that coming? Thomas saving the day with a pumpkin brownie recipe?

Shout out to my good friend and amazing author @galarussauthor for the pumpkin brownie idea and recipe. If you haven't read any of her books, start with Love Novice which is a great love story but also full of delicious recipes. I made the butternut squash ravioli and it was easy and yummy!  I keep asking for the companion recipe book. (Hint, Hint)

Have you ever read anything in a book food related and then had a craving for it? Tell me in the comments what it was.