“I’m in the mood for pasta,” I reply, only because it’s supposedly the easiest, quickest meal to make.
“Any particular sauce?”
“Something simple.”
Riven strolls to the kitchen and opens the fridge and a few cabinets. “Why don’t we start with the very basics?”
I join him in the kitchen. “What did you have in mind?”
“A simple tomato sauce?”
“Oh, I already know how to make spaghetti marinara.”
Riven raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Yeah? What’s the recipe?”
“Boil the spaghetti and pour the sauce from the jar on top.”
Riven’s shoulders shake with laughter. “No, Pook, no shortcuts. We’re making the sauce from scratch. Don’t look so hopeless,” he adds, planting a soft kiss on my neck, “It’s really easy.”
I shiver, thinking the only thing I’m hopeless about is skipping this damn dinner and
