❝ darling, let me trace the lines on your tattooed heart ❞
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〚 highest ranking: #471 in romance 〛
〚 copyrighted 〛
〚 cover made by the lovely cadetcarswell 〛
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❁ ❁ ❁
"How come I am the only member of the Richards family who cannot cook?!" I groan, defeated by the three messy mixing bowls on the counter in front of me and the burnt baking pan cooling off on the stove.
Mia scoops a spoon into the bowl full of dough and brings it to her mouth. A sour expression instantly greets her face, causing my heart to sink.
"This is the absolute worst cookie dough I have ever tasted." She says, gagging and wiping her tongue on a towel. She tosses the spoon into the sink, and even proceeds to wash her mouth out with water.
"It can't be that bad," I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
"Oh trust me, it is." She replies, picking up the dirty bowls and placing them into the soapy, hot water. She sighs. "I guess we'll try a fourth time. But let me do the work, you can just look over my shoulder."
"Fair enough."
Mia gets started once again on the cookies, and I just lean against the counter, watching as she busies herself in making fresh dough and heating the oven up. I sit on one of the kitchen bar stools, glancing over at one of Mia's homework sheets. Exponents. Ah, those were the good days.
