24
LARA
The following morning, Luke was by the stove, flipping pancakes in the air.
“Maybe you should work at the tavern,” I giggled taking a seat at the table.
He chuckled. “My culinary skills are limited, cupcake. I’m good on the grill, but when it comes to casseroles and silly s**t like that, I’m lost.” He passed me a plate of blueberry pancakes and smiled. “My pancake making abilities, however, are top notch.”
“Thanks,” I said, hearing my stomach growl. “I love me some pancakes.”
He sat down in front of me with his own plate. “I know.” We ate in silence but every time I looked over at him, he smiled. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and it felt good. “You never told me what happened last night,” he said.
Sighing, I swallowed the last of my pancake. “There’s really not much to
