#op;cady

If Nathan could have ever put his foot in his mouth, this situation was no better that. Taking the knife in his head, he looked down at the enemy, deciding what to do to them. Why did he volunteer to cook again? Right, because he was an idiot. It was a fact that he knew how to cook, but the Irish man hadn’t cooked in literal years. And Martha Stewart was making no easier on him either. 

But he promised Cady a date, and if anything; he was a man of his word. How hard could it be to make spaghetti Bolognese? Nathan had lost track of time as he cooked, until the door clicked open. Shit, he was supposed to pick her up.