Pascal broke the sizzling tension between them by turning back to the cast iron skillet of browning butter on the stove. Soon, the aroma of garlic and sage filled the air. As Pascal kneaded, then rolled out thin sheets of pasta, Avery licked her lips and said, “You know, Pascal...I’ve told you a lot about myself. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”
“What do you want to know?” Pascal answered her question with a question of his own.
“How old are you?” she asked without hesitation. She’d been wondering this for so long that the question just popped right now. Plus, he’d asked her the same question in one of their first meetings, so she felt it was fair.
“Old enough to drink.” Pascal’s throwback reply to their first meeting made her smile. He chuckled lightly, as he carefully piped
