Page 75 of Strictly Against Policy

What was supposed to result in an amazing breakfast turned into a fire hazard. Not because I couldn’t cook, but because I was nervous.

“Were you trying to impress me, Jonathan Lo?”

“No,” I scoffed, dusting remnants of a red bell pepper off the white and cream-colored apron I borrowed from Lina.

She smiled. “I thought you were supposed to come pick me up at 10:30, go grab coffee, and then head to that culinary class you signed us up for our date.”

I folded my arms across my chest with a long breath. “Yes, and?”

Lina laughed. “You’re here two hours early, insisting on making breakfast, which you⁠—”

“It was an accident,” I interrupted her.

“You burned our breakfast, Jonathan. I bet I’ll be the better cook when we go to our culinary class.” She beamed a thousand-watt smile, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

I laughed. “You bet?”

Her eyes darted accusingly to the pan I had encrusted with blackened eggs. She glanced up at me, her mouth coiling into a serpentine grin.

“I don’t need to bet. I am the better cook.” She shook her head with a click of her tongue.

A lazy, relaxed smirk spread across my face, and another chuckle tumbled out of me. “What confidence you have, Lina Lee.”

“Well, of course. I’m a winner.”

“And if you lose?”

She laughed. “I’m not going to lose. You are.”

I hummed. “Should I pull up a mirror so you can keep telling yourself that, Darling? I’m sure you’ll need words of encouragement.” Lina puffed out a low breath, ready to bite back, as I pulled out my phone and handed it to her. “Before I do that, let’s eat first.”

“Fine,” she muttered.

Her lips pouted. The glossy sheen on that sensuous mouth of hers looked delectable. I wanted to lick her lips the way I licked glazed sugar off a doughnut, certain it was going to taste like syrupy sweetness and Lina.

Sensing my presence looming closer over her, she looked up. One of her perfect eyebrows rose pointedly at me. “Unless you don’t want to eat breakfast,” she murmured softly.

I leaned down to hover my lips over hers. “Behave, Lina.”

Her face bloomed bright red as I pulled away, laughing. “It’s Saturday morning, Jonathan. I’m well rested.”

I held her face gently with both of my hands, shaking my head. “But you aren’t well fed.”

Lina’s clear, bright eyes lingered on my lips when she tiptoed to wrap her arms around my neck. In a sharp tug, our faces were centimeters apart again. She smiled. “Fine. Later then, after you lose.”

I chuckled. “That’s not going to happen.”

She scoffed, blowing blustering air across my mouth. “Just fucking kiss me, Jonathan. You talk too much.”

I kissed her as she commanded.

Lina was fuming. She was quiet as she worked on rolling a fresh sheet of pasta through her pasta roller, but the mask of indifference she hung across her face was telling. I tried not to laugh when I glanced across the large table.

“What’s wrong, Lina?” I asked.

She looked at me for a moment. “Nothing,” she answered coolly.

“Nope, something’s wrong.” I clicked my tongue. “Especially when you’re wearing that face and using that voice.”