The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 160

Chapter 160: Chapter 160: Morning After

Aria’s POV

I woke to the smell of burning toast and the sound of Damien cursing creatively in the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the windows, warm and golden, and for a moment I just lay there, wrapped in his sheets, smiling at the ceiling.

This. This was happiness. I pulled on one of his shirts—a soft gray button-down that fell to mid-thigh—and padded barefoot to the kitchen. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

The scene that greeted me was both endearing and slightly alarming. Damien stood shirtless in pajama pants, frowning at a pan full of what might have once been eggs but now resembled rubber. Smoke drifted from the toaster, and there was flour everywhere, including in his hair.

"What are you doing?" I leaned against the doorframe, biting back a laugh.

He spun around, looking adorably flustered. "Making you breakfast. Or trying to, why is cooking so hard?"

"Because you’re terrible at it?" I moved into the kitchen, assessing the damage. "Damien, we have a chef. We could have just ordered something."

"I wanted to do it myself." He ran a hand through his flour-dusted hair, making it worse. "I wanted you to wake up to breakfast in bed like in the movies. But I" He gestured helplessly at the disaster zone. "I burned everything."

"I can see that." I rescued the toast from the toaster before it became charcoal. "But it’s sweet that you tried."

"Sweet and unsuccessful." He dumped the rubbery eggs into the trash. "I wanted this morning to be perfect. Wanted to—I don’t know. Show you that I can take care of you."

"Damien." I turned to face him, my heart melting. "You do take care of me. In a thousand different ways. You don’t need to cook me breakfast to prove anything."

"But I want to." His voice was almost petulant. "I want to be good at domestic things. Want to make you pancakes and coffee and" He stopped. "I want to be the kind of partner who can do all of it. Business, romance and everyday stuff."

"You are that partner." I moved closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. "You’re exactly the partner I need. Terrible cooking skills and all."

"Yeah?" He looked down at me hopefully.

"Yeah." I stood on my toes to kiss him. "Though maybe we should stick to ordering breakfast or allowing the chef to handle it, for the safety of the kitchen."

He laughed, pulling me closer. "Deal. But Aria, I’m going to learn. I’m going to take cooking classes and practice and"

"Burn down the kitchen?" I teased.

"Probably." He grinned. "But I’ll keep trying. For you. For us. For the domestic life I want us to have."

"We’ll learn together." I rested my head on his bare chest. "I mean, I can handle the basics — simple meals, snacks, nothing too ambitious but anything beyond that and I’m just as lost as you are."

"So between the two of us, we can manage breakfast and maybe a decent pasta." He kissed the top of my head. "That’s something."

"It’s a start." I smiled against his chest. "We’ll figure out the rest as we go."

We stood like that for a long moment, swaying slightly to music only we could hear, surrounded by the evidence of his failed breakfast attempt.

"I love you in my shirt," he said suddenly. "You should wear my clothes more often."

"Possessive much?" But I was smiling.

"Absolutely." His hands slid down to grip my hips. "Seeing you in my shirt, in my kitchen, in my life—it does things to me."

"Things?" I looked up at him, seeing heat building in his eyes. "What kind of things?"

"The kind that makes me want to pick you up, put you on this counter, and"

His phone rang, interrupting whatever he was about to say. We both groaned.

"Ignore it," I suggested.

"It might be about Noah." He reluctantly pulled away to grab his phone. "Hello?"

I watched his expression shift from frustration to warmth to amusement, all in the space of about three seconds.

"Good morning, Mrs. Dora." A pause. "No, not at all — we were awake." He caught my eye and had the decency to look only slightly guilty about that particular lie. "How is he?"

He listened, and the amusement on his face deepened into something softer. "Of course. Yes. We’ll be there within the hour." Another pause, and he laughed genuinely and quietly. "We’ll bring them. Yes. See you soon."

He hung up and looked at me with that expression he still sometimes got, like fatherhood was a thing that kept catching him pleasantly off guard. "She called to ask when we were coming," he said. "And to report that Noah has been up since six, has eaten breakfast, reorganized her entire bookshelf by color, and is currently " he checked his phone for the time "attempting to teach Theo’s goldfish to do tricks."

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