The babysitter

Cooking Lesson #1

"Are you sure you're okay watching both of them?" Lucy asked for the third time as she watched Tamara expertly bounce baby Evan on her hip while Emma showed her the proper way to throw Kojo's rope toy.

"Lucy, I've got this," Tamara assured her with that confident smile that made her one of the most reliable officers at Mid-Wilshire. "Emma and I are going to teach Evan all about being a proper big kid, aren't we, Em?"

"We're going to show him how to crawl properly," Emma announced seriously. "He's still doing it wrong. His knees don't go high enough."

"His knees are fine, sweetheart," Lucy laughed, kissing Emma's forehead. "You were crawling the exact same way when you were his age."

"I was probably better at it," Emma said with the confidence of a seven-year-old who had clearly forgotten her own baby days.

Tim appeared in the living room, car keys in hand and looking like a man heading into battle. "Ready to go learn how not to destroy our kitchen?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Lucy replied, though she couldn't help feeling a flutter of nervousness. What if they were too hopeless? What if they got kicked out of remedial cooking class?

"Don't worry," Tamara said, clearly reading Lucy's expression. "If you two can handle armed suspects and high-speed chases, you can handle a little cooking class."

"Armed suspects don't explode when you mix them wrong," Tim pointed out darkly.

"Daddy, you're being dramatic," Emma said, patting his arm consolingly. "It was just pancakes."

"Just pancakes," Tim repeated. "Emma, I created a flour bomb in our kitchen."

"It was pretty cool though," Emma admitted. "Can you do it again when I have friends over?"

"Absolutely not," Lucy and Tim said in unison.

Twenty minutes later, they found themselves standing outside "Savor Cooking Studio," a bright, cheerful building that promised to turn culinary disasters into kitchen successes. Through the large windows, they could see other couples already gathering around a large demonstration island.

"They look normal," Lucy observed. "Maybe we won't be the worst ones there."

"Lucy, I have flour stains on the ceiling that I couldn't reach with a ladder. We're definitely going to be the worst ones there."

They walked in together, and Lucy was immediately struck by how clean and organized everything was. Shiny copper pots hung from overhead racks, knives were arranged with military precision, and every surface gleamed under the bright lights. It was the opposite of their kitchen disaster zone.

"Welcome!" A petite woman with perfectly styled blonde hair approached them, clipboard in hand and a smile that belonged in a cooking show. "You must be Tim and Lucy! I'm Chef Michelle, and I'll be your instructor today."

"That's us," Tim said, shaking her hand. "The ones who probably need the most help."

Chef Michelle's smile brightened considerably when she looked at Tim, and Lucy noticed the way her eyes lingered just a beat too long. "Oh, don't worry," she said, her voice taking on a slightly warmer tone. "I just love working with... challenging students. Especially ones who are so dedicated to learning."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. Was the cooking instructor flirting with her husband?

"We're definitely challenging," Lucy said, stepping slightly closer to Tim. "My husband has a particular talent for turning simple recipes into kitchen explosions."

"How exciting!" Chef Michelle laughed, her attention still focused primarily on Tim. "I bet you have such interesting stories, don't you, Tim? Being a police officer and all?"

"Uh, sure," Tim replied, clearly oblivious to the extra attention. "Though most of them don't involve cooking disasters."

Lucy was about to make another pointed comment when her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, expecting a text from Tamara about the kids, but instead saw Captain Grey's name.

"Sorry, I need to take this," she said, stepping aside. "Captain?"

"Chen-Bradford, I need you at the station immediately," Grey's voice was tense, all business. "We've got a situation developing, and I need all hands on deck."

"Sir, I'm actually off duty today—"

"Not anymore. This is big, Lucy. How quickly can you get here?"

Lucy looked back at Tim, who was now being introduced to the other couples by Chef Michelle, who seemed to be finding excuses to touch his arm while she talked.

"I can be there in twenty minutes," Lucy said, already calculating the drive time.

"Good. And Lucy? Bring your A-game. This one's going to be complicated."

The line went dead, and Lucy stared at her phone for a moment before walking back over to Tim. He was examining a set of very sharp-looking knives while Chef Michelle explained their various uses, standing closer to him than strictly necessary for knife education.

"Tim," Lucy said, interrupting what appeared to be a very thorough explanation of proper knife grip. "I have to go."

"Go?" Tim looked confused. "The class is just starting."

"Grey called. Emergency at the station." Lucy grabbed her purse and gave Tim a quick kiss. "I'm really sorry, babe. Can you handle this without me?"

"I... well, I guess?" Tim looked around at the cooking station set up for two people. "But what about our couples cooking experience?"

"Oh, don't worry!" Chef Michelle chimed in brightly. "I can be Tim's partner for today! I often work with students one-on-one when their partners can't make it."

Lucy's eyes narrowed slightly. "How convenient."

"It's really no trouble at all," Chef Michelle continued, already moving to Lucy's side of the cooking station. "Tim and I will have a wonderful time learning together, won't we?"

Tim, still focused on Lucy's sudden departure, didn't seem to notice the instructor's enthusiasm. "Are you sure you have to go right now?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Lucy kissed him again, this time making sure Chef Michelle could see. "Try not to create any explosions without me."

"I make no promises," Tim replied with a grin.

As Lucy headed for the door, she heard Chef Michelle's voice behind her: "Now, Tim, let me show you the proper way to hold a whisk. It's all about the wrist action..."

Lucy paused at the door, torn between her duty to respond to Grey's call and her sudden urge to stay and make sure Chef Michelle kept her hands to herself. But duty won, and she pushed through the door, already pulling out her phone to call Tamara and let her know she'd be late getting back.

"This better be one hell of an emergency," she muttered to herself as she got in the car.

Back in the cooking studio, Tim was completely focused on trying to follow Chef Michelle's whisk demonstration, blissfully unaware that his instructor's attention had very little to do with his culinary education and everything to do with the way he looked in his rolled-up sleeves.

"You're very good at this," Chef Michelle said encouragingly as Tim managed to whisk eggs without flinging them across the room. "Such strong, steady hands. I bet you're good at a lot of things."

"Well, I can field strip a weapon and write reports," Tim replied absently, concentrating on not scrambling the eggs prematurely. "But apparently I can't make pancakes without causing property damage."

Chef Michelle laughed as if this was the most charming thing she'd ever heard. "I'd love to hear more about that story. Maybe over coffee sometime?"

Tim looked up from his whisking, finally catching something in her tone. "Oh, uh, that's nice of you to offer, but I'm married. Happily married. Very happily married."

"Of course you are," Chef Michelle said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Lucky woman."

And meanwhile, Lucy was speeding toward the station, completely unaware that her husband was about to get a very different kind of education than either of them had signed up for.