Page 62 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas

“No,” he muttered, then gave Anna a gentle kick when she widened her eyes and mouthed ‘hot tub’ with mock excitement.

“Just say you’ll think about it,” his mum said.

“Okay. Sure. Well, we’ll discuss it, and I’ll get back to you. We’re going to finish our dinner now.”

“Yes, get back to it before it’s cold. I’ll talk to you soon.”

There was a chorus of goodbyes before Warren jabbed at the phone to end the call.

“I can’t believe you just outright lied to your mum,” Anna said.

He threw his hands up. “And I can’t believe you answered my phone. Why would you do that?”

“Sorry.” She giggled at his look of outrage. “I thought you were annoyed about not being able to answer it because your hands were wet.”

“No. I was annoyed by the call. I had no intention of answering it, even if I wasn’t washing the dishes.”

“Sorry,” she said again. “I’d never dare to ignore a call from my mum, so I kind of assume other people are the same.”

Warren smiled. “To be honest, I’d never dare ignore a call fromyourmum, either.”

“How often does my mum call you?” Anna asked, assuming he was being hypothetical.

“Far too often!” He grinned. “It’s not as much since Erin moved in with Lewis. I guess she gets the brunt of it now. It used to be that if Lewis didn’t answer the phone, Fiona would call me as though I was his personal secretary. Sometimes I suspected she didn’t even bother trying to call Lewis and just called me first. She’d ask me to pass on a message if she knew it was something Lewis would say no to.”

Anna chuckled. “She’s a nightmare sometimes.”

“I far prefer phone calls from your mum to my own.” His eyes glazed over, and he looked momentarily lost in thought before he stood abruptly. “Do you want a drink? There’s tea or coffee… or possibly beer…” He opened the fridge, then nodded decisively. “There’s beer.”

“I’d love a tea,” she told him, happy that he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get rid of her. “Do you have a variety of flavours?”

He rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a hotel.”

“Do you, though? Because I can absolutely imagine you having a quaint wooden tea box with different flavour tea bags.”

“I don’t,” he said, taking two mugs from the cupboard. “I feel as though it’s a luxury best saved for hotel stays.” He filled the kettle, then got back to work on the dishes.

When the water had boiled, Anna moved to make herself useful.

“This mug is beautiful,” she said, eyeing the unique ceramic mug with the words ‘world’s best chef’ etched neatly on one side.

“Lewis got it for me,” he said idly.

“Cute.” She poured water over the tea bags and got milk from the fridge. Once he’d finished the dishes, she handed him a mug and wandered over to the living room with her own. Lowering herself onto the couch, she looked up at Warren andcaught the troubled look on his face. “Sorry. I’m making myself at home. Did you want to sit at the table?”

“No.” He sat beside her, looking momentarily unsure of himself before he reached for Anna’s mug.

She watched in confusion while he set it on the coffee table in front of him and put his mug close to her.

It took a moment for her to figure out what was going on, and when she did, she bit down on her lip to smother a laugh.

“Did I take the wrong mug?” she asked, then pressed her lips together as the laughter crept up her throat.

“It’s my favourite,” he said sulkily. “And you’re not even a chef, so it’s inappropriate for you to take that one.”

“You’re kind of surprising, you know?” She relaxed back onto the couch and flicked her gaze to him as he picked up the mug, which he was apparently so attached to. “By the way, what family trip did your mum just invite me on?”

Ripples erupted on the surface of his tea as he snorted a laugh. “It’s a trip to Bath. They always go before Christmas.”