“Not like that. Have you seriously not been in the kitchen before?” I asked, utterly amused.

Ryan frowns and returns his gaze to the vegetables he is trying to murder—because there is no way I can call that dicing. He arrived at my doorstep holding grocery bags, and his eyes had been bright as he announced he would make dinner.

I have no idea what got into him, but it has been amusing, watching him skewer the carrots and onions. Hell, he doesn’t even know how to hold a ...