Having Jacob in her kitchen was surreal.
His Bolognese sauce was to die for and the lasagna he’d cobbled together was maybe the best she’d ever had.
And beneath the table, he’d nudged his foot right next to hers. Touching without really touching.
“Where’d you learn to cook?” she asked, dragging a chunk of crescent roll through the sauce on her plate.
“Things weren’t so great growing up. My dad was gone a lot and sometimes Mom checked out. There was always money for groceries but someti...
Published on March 16, 2019 05:58