As they talked, she pushed the plate of Italian lasagna in front of him.
The man raised an eyebrow and immediately tasted a bite, the corners of his thin lips curving slightly: "Although it can't compare with a hotel chef, I'd give it an eight."
"Eight?" Tara Summer frowned and pressed, "If your perfect score is one hundred, doesn't that mean it's really bad, hard to swallow?!"
"Psst." The man chuckled softly, his long fingers reached over and gave her nose a gentle tap. "A perfect score is, of course, ten."
This little thing, her mood tonight seemed really good, joking with him in the kitchen, occasionally teasing him.
She was relying on the fact that with many people in the kitchen and herself being pregnant, he didn't dare to act recklessly, right!?
Liam Yancey squinted his eyes, deciding not to argue with her now, and waited for the night, thinking of how he'd deal with her then!
