He surprised her by taking matters into his own hands once they were in the kitchen.
“I’m in the mood for pancakes,” Jason said, heading straight for the nearest cupboard. “Do you have any Bisquick?”
She bit back her smile. “You’re asking a family of bakers if they have some cheap, American excuse for a baking product?” Flanna pushed past him and pulled out the canisters she would need to make them from scratch, all too aware of him hovering just behind her shoulder. “Just be glad my father didn’t hear you ask that. He might’ve revoked his good opinion of you.”
His breath was warm as it tickled near her ear. “These aren’t going to be those flat things you English try to pass off as pancakes, are they?”
“Only if you continue to annoy me.” She slapped at his hand when he tried to reach p
