Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

Chapter 1408

"Hey, don't just stand there, go grab some forks." Jackson called out warmly as he emerged with a plate of spaghetti, glancing at Fiona lingering in the doorway.

"Oh, okay," she replied quickly, nodding as she fetched a couple of forks.

Jackson had already set the pasta on the table by the time she returned. She slid into the chair across from him.

"Give my cooking a shot," Jackson grinned, nudging the plate towards her.

"Brother, what made you decide to whip up some pasta for me?" Fiona asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Not a fan?" he teased.

"No, it's not that," Fiona chuckled, grabbing a fork and diving in. The taste took her by surprise-it was light yet packed with a distinct flavor. Normally, she leaned towards spicy dishes and avoided anything too bland, but this was downright delicious. She dug in for several more bites.

Jackson watched her with a soft gaze, the overhead light casting a faint glow on his long lashes, yet his eyes were full of warmth.

"When I was a kid and feeling down, my mom would always make me pasta," he said suddenly, his voice carrying a hint of huskiness. Fiona paused, her fork hovering in mid-air.

she passed away, there was no one left to make it for me, so I taught myself," he continued. The taste might have remained, but the person behind it had changed. Fiona pursed her lips, sensing the weight of Jackson's memories. She spoke gently, "Hey, I can make pasta for you from now on. Whatever you want, just say the word, okay?" Jackson glanced down, a flicker of a

not? Was she being kept at arm's length? Fiona felt a pang of annoyance until Jackson added softly, "I like making it for

one who should be

Fiona's mind as she bit gently on

finished

gathered the dishes

met

upstairs and get

for a bit?" Fiona suggested, not eager to part ways just yet, She genuinely felt awake, and with Jackson having mentioned his mother, she was

an eyebrow, his gaze intense, "But I'm feeling sleepy. Be

he used when coaxing a child. Fiona arched an eyebrow but

back, catching a glimpse of Jackson still tidying up in the kitchen. A small smile tugged at

thought

father was

dishes for her mother. It

similar kind