Five Years of Marriage to Mr. Bradford (by Koi Fish) novel Chapter 660

Chapter 660

Jethro was trying to convince everyone how delicious they were, but he received zero support. Jenny had already moved far away in disgust.

Rebecca glanced at Darren. “You don’t like these?”

Darren shook his head vigorously. “Absolutely not!”

Did silkworm chrysalises really have any fundamental difference from cicada nymphs, locusts, and the like? Rebecca didn’t know the answer.

When Vance came over, there were no seats left next to Rebecca. Darren sat on one side of her and Jenny on the other, so he sat down directly across from her.

At that point, Rebecca was holding a few skewers of leeks in her hands. Vance grabbed a large bunch of beef skewers and started grilling with the group.

“Hey, do you even know how to do this?” Jethro asked, thinking that Vance was above such mundane, smoky activities.

Vance ignored him, sprinkling a generous amount of cumin on the meat. The aroma instantly intensified.

Watching Vance skillfully flip the skewers, Jethro nodded. “Looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“You really can’t keep your mouth shut even when eating,” Vance said.

He might not have grilled before, but he had seen it done. Plus, he had worked in a restaurant, which Jethro knew about.

He gave a helpless smile. “Am I really that wooden in your eyes? You all came to celebrate my birthday. As the host, it’s only right that I prepare food for you.”

Finally, he handed the last two skewers to Rebecca. She was eating her leeks when she saw his fair fingers covered in chili powder and cumin.

Even though she had spent many years with him in the original timeline, the scene still felt strangely jarring. These hands were meant for typing on keyboards, flipping through contracts, and signing documents.

The strong, elegant signature that came from these hands carried the aura of snowy mountains, not the smell of cumin and chili.

In fact, she knew he could cook. He had cooked for Catherine and later for Anna. But she had never seen him with greasy, garlicky hands like this. He had always carried himself like a Michelin chef.

“Here, it’s beef,” he said.

The noisy backyard suddenly fell quiet. Everyone was watching the two of them. The only sound left was the sizzling of meat on the grill.