Page 42 of Twisted Paths

My stomach drops.

Oh.

Right.

I force a small laugh, aiming for breezy, but it comes out a little stiff. “Oh. Well. No worries. It was just an—”

“I’m cooking,” he adds before I can finish.

I blink. “What?”

“You can’t cook,” he says simply.

I open my mouth, then shut it again.

Because, well… fair point.

“You don’t have to sound so smug about it,” I grumble, crossing my arms, but warmth spreads through me anyway.

Luke remembers.

He actually remembers that tiny, stupid detail about me.

And now, he wants to cook for me.

I lean against the counter, twisting the strap of my tote bag between my fingers. “So, what are we talking here? A proper meal? Or are you just heating up a tin of beans and hoping for the best?”

Luke snorts. “I take offence at that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. Unlike you, I can actually function in a kitchen.”

I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest won’t go away. “Fine, Gordon Ramsay, what’s on the menu?”

“You’ll find out when you get here.”

“Bit risky, don’t you think? What if I have allergies? What if I’m secretly a picky eater?”

“You’re not,” he says flatly. “And if you were, I assume I’d have already heard a long speech about your dietary preferences.”

I purse my lips. “I don’t always give long speeches.”

“You do,” he says. “But it’s fine. I find it… entertaining.”

My stomach flips at that.

I clear my throat. “So, what time does this grand meal take place?”

“Six.”

I raise an eyebrow, even though he can’t see me. “Oh? No room for negotiation?”

“Nope,” he says. “I’m taking control of the situation.”

I exhale a laugh.Assertive Luke, I can get used to this.

“Alright,” I say, unable to fight the smile in my voice. “Six it is.”

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