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“Who said you could you use roashes overpasta sauce all over my tattered winter dress

“Look what youmy fear with fire

“That dress is already a mess,” he notes

“It’s not like you’ve leftelse to wear,” I point out

Angel’s eyes leave the to laboratory I’ve turned his kitchen into “Maybe I’ll get you an apron” he mumbles

“How about some real clothes?” I reply

Angel doesn’t s muscles in the space around his dimples “I’d rather see you in just an apron”

“Perv”

Angel ignorespot of pasta sauce He grabs a messy ladle from the counter and takes a taste

His eyes ith pleasure when the sauce hits his tongue It takes all of lee I love it when people likemore than a subtle reaction

“Already getting ready to be lint of his di under his sharp cheekbones

“As if I’d everhim to have more of my sauce I worked hard over this food, and part of the satisfaction of cooking a big ry bellies

“As if I’d give you the choice,” Angel cuts, taking another sip of my sauce

I let el doesn’t catch on to the satisfaction I’ I made

“What?” he asks, raising one of his dark eyebrows