Mia POV

Willison and Mia ate dinner together enough times that they had the whole thing down to fine art or a dance. It was only a week and a half, but still, Mia cooked nearly every night, and Willison cleaned up, even going so far as to clean while she cooked so there wasn’t a colossal mess at the night's end. He couldn’t complain about the meals, but did she have to use every single pot and pan and dish and spoon while creating them?

“Wow,” Amelia said, leaning against the kitchen counter as Mia stirred something on the stove and Willison loaded the dishwasher. “You two have this...