Page 41 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

Macy jerked. “I just went two days ago. Were you planning on cooking right now? The party isn’t for two weeks.”

“I’m not doing everything,” he told her. “You’re going to help, and in order to do that you’re going to learn some basics.”

Macy blinked, sure she’d heard him wrong, but when he remained fixed in place, face void of emotions, she burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I don’t want to learn to cook. I’m terrible at it, in fact. If you want to help with the party, great. But if you’re going to torture both of us by making me play along, I’ll find another way.”

Liam uncrossed his arms, slowly stepping toward her, all the while keeping those dark eyes focused on her. “Torture? I think we’ve tortured each other enough for a while, don’t you? This is us calling a truce, for real this time. I’m going to teach you simple things and you’re going to learn. That way when your dad is impressed with this party, you can tell him you did some of the baking.”

Macy narrowed her eyes. “You’re not playing fair using my dad like that. You know I can’t resist now.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her face. “You’re going to have to stop resisting. That’s your first lesson.”

Macy swallowed. She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the party any longer. But she needed to focus, and if they were indeed calling a truce, she wanted to learn something. She wanted her father to be proud of her. Of course he already was proud of how she ran the store, but she wanted to show him just how much she appreciated everything he’d ever done for her, the sacrifices he’d made to give her the best childhood ever.

“Fine,” Macy relented. “You can teach me basics, but keep in mind when I say I’m terrible in the kitchen, I’m not exaggerating.”

Liam tipped his head. “Nobody is that bad. You can read, can’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then you can follow a recipe.”

Macy shrugged. He’d find out soon enough that she wasn’t joking. Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to mention the time she left eggs out of a birthday cake, or the time she cooked the pecan pie for four hours because it still looked gooey in the middle. Oh, also best not to bring up the time the biscuits caught fire in the oven because she’d forgotten them and had been in the shower. She quickly remembered when the smoke alarm had started going off and then she slipped, nearly breaking her neck, buck naked covered with shampoo.

Since moving into her new home, Macy hadn’t attempted any cooking, so the smoke alarm hadn’t been tested yet. Weren’t they supposed to be tested monthly?

“First, we need to go over this junk in your refrigerator.”

Macy moved around him and jerked the double doors open. Standing back, she surveyed the contents. “I see nothing wrong with my stock.”

Reaching around her, Liam pulled out a container. “This is what you’re trying to call butter? It’s oil and processed garbage. I wouldn’t let Zach’s dogs have this.”

Macy lifted her chin and glared over her shoulder. “I’ve never used anything else.”

Liam groaned. “You’re a walking heart attack waiting to happen.”

Rolling her eyes, Macy turned back toward the fridge. “I’ll take my chances. What else is wrong in here, oh grand food snob?”

By the time Liam finished, all that was left in her fridge was the baking soda and bottles of water. Macy glanced at all of her food on the center island.

“I don’t see how criticizing my groceries is going to make my dad’s party a success.”

Leaning against the counter, Liam shrugged. “If you have terrible ingredients, such as processed nonsense, then the end result will be a disaster. You don’t want that, do you?”

Macy threw her arms out. “Give up the guilt trip, all right? I’m going to let you teach me basics. You’re purging my fridge, and now you’re educating me on how unhealthy I’m eating. Don’t keep throwing my dad into the mix.”

The uninjured side of Liam’s mouth quirked into a grin. That lopsided smile did so much to her insides that she worried this “truce” would be a short-lived one. He was too appealing, too much of an enigma that she wanted to get closer to.

“You can either restock or come to my place,” he told her. “I can’t work here like this.”

Macy laughed. “I had no idea my kitchen was so appalling. I’ve never had a problem here. Let’s just go to your place, because I’m more than fine with my stuff and I’m not changing simply because you don’t like my stock.”

He jerked his head. “Let’s go then. I’ll drive.”

“I can follow you.”

“I’ll bring you back.”

He left the house as if there was no room for argument. Well, okay then. Clearly he wanted control and a part of her found that sexy as hell, though she normally found an overbearing man to be a total turnoff. For some reason that whole dominant, alpha male thing worked well with Liam. Everything about Liam worked for her, actually. Well, except for that whole truce thing. She could seriously do without that because she was ready for him to take charge, rip her clothes off, and show more of that side she’d seen last night.

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