Author’s Note: This incorporates two separate anonymous fic prompts for 12 baking together and #49 volunteer together for Drake and Emma. No cupcakes were harmed in the making of this story, although I did have to eat one for inspiration. 😘
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“Mix three cups flour and one tablespoon baking powder in a separate bowl. Gradually add the egg sugar butter mixture, ensuring that it’s- Drake!” Emma’s warning comes a moment too late, as Drake turns on the electric mixer and sends a cloud of flour into the air and all over himself.
“Oh, shit!” Drake reacts quickly, turning the mixer off before surveying the mess all over the counter and his front.
“Honey – It says gradually, not dump the whole bowl in at once.” Emma rubs her hand along her forehead, trying her best to keep her tone calm.
“Well, I’m glad you insisted on an apron.” Drake shrugged, then grabbed a damp towel to start wiping things down.
Emma chuckled and grabbed a towel of her own to help her husband with cleanup duty. “Yes, that apron not only shows off your manly physique, it also actually has a functional purpose too.” She swiped a small pile of the flour into her hand, then dumped it in the trash. She studied the contents of the mixer, assessing the damage as Drake finished the improptu cleaning session. “So I don’t think we lost too much of the ingredients, we just need to mix this in manually to get all the ingredients moist before we attempt to use the mixer again.” She turned to her husband and handed him a large wooden spoon, cocking her brow and nodding towards the mixing bowl. Drake groaned under his breath but didn’t argue before taking it and proceeding to the unfinished cupcake mixture.
“So why are we baking these from scratch again? Couldn’t we just order some from the store?” Drake asked in a relatively innocent-sounding voice.
“Drake Walker, you said you wanted to get involved at Harper’s school! And since neither of our schedules allow us enough time to be president of the parent association, I think the least we can do is bake some cupcakes and volunteer for the spring bake sale.” Emma reviewed the rest of the recipe and turned the oven on to preheat while Drake continued his mixing.
“Okay, okay … but that still doesn’t explain why we’re the ones baking right now.”
“Drake, don’t you want to do something 100% for Harper? Show her that even though we have servants to do things and money to buy things, we are still regular people that can bake things ourselves?!?” Emma spoke with great bravado, hand gestures and all … definitely more passionately than was reasonable on the topic of baking.
Drake’s eyebrows raised as he listened to his wife’s lecture, continuing to fold the dry flour mixture into the cupcake batter. He cleared his throat, unsure how to ask his next question delicately. “Em …” he started in a gentle sing-song voice. “You’re not trying to prove anything, are you? Perhaps to a few certain uptight women in the parent association?”
Emma scoffed, shaking her head and tousling her dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot. “Agh, no! Don’t be -“ she marched around their humongous kitchen, fetching more butter from the fridge. “That’s just ridiculous, Drake. I-“ she cut herself off, internally searching for a believable explanation. “I just want to …” her voice trailed away and she finally raised her eyes to find Drake watching her tirade with stifled amusement hidden behind his features. He knew her so well … it was very annoying at times. “Fine, maybe a little.” Her shoulders dropped in defeat and she slumped against the counter, unable to suppress her embarrassed sneer. Her husband set down his stirring and waltzed around the kitchen island, halting in front of her to loop his hands around her waist.
“Em, you have to cut yourself some slack … you run an entire Duchy, for goodness sakes! Do you really think people will judge you for not baking cupcakes from scratch?” He caught her eye and cocked his head in question, a sly smirk on his lips.
“Well, no … I suppose not.” Emma sighed heavily as she melted into his embrace, cheek pressed against his shoulder. “I guess that’s one of my impractical female tendencies … I want to do everything perfect all the time.”
“I think volunteering in the first place shows how hard you try. And anyone who doesn’t see that isn’t worth impressing.” Drake pressed a kiss to the top of her head while stroking her back.
“Ugh, you’re right. I hate it when you’re right.” Emma giggled and tilted her head upward, watching his eyes sparkle as he snickered proudly. “But don’t think you’re getting out of helping me with these cupcakes, Mister!” She swatted his shoulder playfully.
Drake leaned forward, allowing his lips to graze hers as he spoke softly. “I was hoping to distract you … entice you with a different kind of dessert that doesn’t require any baking.”
Emma pushed him away just before he got the chance to nip at her earlobe. “Unh uh … we have work to do. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll distract you later.” She winked at her husband who groaned audibly in feigned dissatisfaction, despite the lighthearted grin on his face. She turned him by the shoulders toward his abandoned mixing bowl and sent him to work with a quick pat on his backside.
Emma began prepping the cupcake pan with liners while Drake finally finished stirring the batter well enough to kick the mixer into full gear. Once the mixer was done, Emma took over and began ladeling spoonfuls of cupcake batter into the liners while Drake helped himself to a glass of whiskey. If he was going to spend his evening baking cupcakes, he was definitely going to need a stiff drink. He leaned back against the counter sipping his beverage and admiring the look of concentration on Emma’s face as she carefully poured the thick, sugary liquid into the pan. With her furrowed brow and pouty mouth, she looked rather intense completing the task at hand. Absolutely adorable, yet intense … and easy to mess with.
“So, how do you know when they’re done?” Drake inquired nonchalantly.
“Usually when the timer goes off that’s a pretty good indicator.” Emma quipped sarcastically as she continued her assignment.
“But what do they look like? Are they firm? Or are they still moist?” Drake smirked mischievously to himself.
Emma stood upright as she finished filling the last of the liners, wiping her hands off on her jeans. “Well, they shouldn’t be gooey but the cake should be moist, fluffy yet firm … I usually test by inserting a knife …” Emma’s eyes widened and darted to her husband as the implications of his question dawned on her. “Wait, did you seriously just use baking terms as an opportunity to talk dirty to me?!?”
Drake shrugged his shoulders and raised his arms in a sarcastic ‘what, me?’ motion, but his snarky grin gave away his playful tone far too easily. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Em … I’m just learning how to bake here.”
Emma shook her head, unwilling to satisfy his joke with a response. She picked up the baking pan and slid it into the oven, squatting down to set the timer. As she rose from the oven, she bumped into a solid figure standing directly behind her. A figure smelling faintly of flour and whiskey and mischief as his hands ghosted over her hips and pulled her body flush against his own.
“I like watching you bend over like that.” He murmured in a husky tone against her ear. “Did you sit in a pile of sugar? ‘Cause you got a pretty sweet ass.” She snorted at his horrible joke, but the jest was forgotten quickly as he nipped at her lobe.
“Mmm … you’re just determined, aren’t you Mr. Walker?” Emma turned to face him, running her palms over his chest as she pushed him backward to the kitchen island. “Do you really think I’m so easily persuaded by your dirty ideas?” She peered up at him innocently, softly brushing her fingertips along the collar of his t-shirt. “We have a messy kitchen you need to help me clean up.”
“Hmm …” Drake hummed against her slight touch, his eyes closed as he savored the teasing friction. “You keep touching me like that and this kitchen’s about to get a whole lot messier …” He opened his eyes to meet her stare, his gaze full of hunger and delight. “You’re baking me crazy.”
Emma choked out a giggle, unable to hold back the roaring laughter as she buckled over against him. She felt the vibrations of amusement in his own chest as she pressed her forehead against him, trying to steady herself in her fit. “Seriously Drake, that was horrible!”
“You know there’s only one way to make me stop, right?” He gave her a wide-eyed plea and that cocky smile that never failed to make her knees weak before grasping her face in both hands, pulling her lips to his in a fervent kiss.
She moaned into his mouth, her senses intoxicated by the taste of whiskey on his tongue and the fragrance of baked goods in the air. She knew resisting was futile as soon as his hands skimmed down her sides, that delightful tickle of pleasure pulsing through her limbs before the rough pressure of his fingers when he gripped her thighs. Then she went willingly, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifted her to the counter, pressing her against him as he whispered sweet nothings into the bare skin of her abdomen. “Now let me show you how I can frost your cupcake, Betty Crocker …” And quickly she was lost in the throaty moans and warm giggles as Drake delivered on his delicious threats.
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“Why Duke and Duchess Walker, how thoughtful of you to volunteer time from your busy schedules for the school!” Emma glanced up from the table of sweet treats to find Ada Carmichael, the two-faced parent association president herself, approaching them. She quickly bit back her snide response and pressed a forced smile to her face.
“Of course, Ada, we’re always happy to help when we can!” She responded enthusiastically, hoping to hide her distaste. “And the whole bake sale experience has really been fun. Drake even helped with the cupcakes.”
“Mmmhhmmm …” Ada nodded slightly as she studied the contents of the table. “And which of these goodies did you two bring so I can try one?”
Emma opened her mouth to respond, but- “Mommy and Daddy made these ones right here!” Harper chimed in proudly. “All from scratch, no mixes or anything!” She pointed to the generously-frosted vanilla cupcakes with chocolate buttercream frosting. Emma tried to suppress the slight tinge of embarrassment in her cheeks at the obviously homemade and unevenly-shaped cupcakes her daughter had just identified as their creation.
“Ohhhh, homemade?” Ada raised an eyebrow as she observed the platter of treats. “How cute.”
Emma balled her fists, biting her tongue when she felt Drakes hand slip around her waist as he stepped forward. “You should really try one, Ada. Not only is Emma’s frosting to die for, we made these cupcakes together with a lot of love.” He smiled warmly, pinching her side when she muffled a laugh with a fake cough. He picked one up with his spare hand and handed it to Ada. “Here, my treat.”
“Oh, well …” Ada stumbled over her words, surprised by Duke Walker’s intervention. “Why thank you. How thoughtful. Well, you two keep up the good work!” She spoke in a cheerful voice but was unable to hide her smug expression as she rotated to walk away.
As soon as Ada was out of hearing range, Emma turned to her husband and gave him an exasperated look. “Drake …” She didn’t have to continue her statement, her eyes said it all.
“What, I merely spoke the truth! Your cupcake- I mean cupcakes- are delicious.” He flashed her a devilish grin, leaning in closer to murmur into her ear. “You didn’t want me to mention the part about defiling our kitchen while these were baking, did you?” He winked as he leaned back, immediately facing their daughter before allowing Emma a chance to berate him.
“Now, Harper, I believe I promised you a trip to the playground! Why don’t we get out of Mommy’s hair for a bit?” Harper jumped up in excitement, grasping his hand tightly and waving a quick “Bye Mom!” as she tugged Drake towards the door. Before he allowed himself to be chauffeured outdoors, he leaned in quickly to press a quick peck to Emma’s cheek and whisper in her ear. “Later, Sweet Cheeks.” He chuckled proudly at his wife’s new nickname before following his daughter to the playground.
Emma merely grinned as she watched them walk away, then sat her sweet ass down to manage the bake sale.
END