The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 259

Leilani accompanied Callahan to his door, assuming he still had packing to do, and was intending to take the elevator back to her own place. But Callahan suddenly scooped her up into his arms.

Leilani let out a startled cry, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Where are you trying to run off to so fast? Didn’t we agree to have dinner together?”

Callahan took out his keys to open the door. He carried her toward the dining room, his tone matter-of-fact. “We went on a date together. The date isn’t complete without eating together.”

“Then put me down!”

“No.”

“Callahan!”

“I’m listening.”

Callahan placed Leilani on a chair at the dining table and turned into the kitchen.

Leilani sat there, watching as he skillfully put on an apron and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his defined forearms. She felt a moment of daze.

Callahan could cook? In her impression, a privileged heir like Callahan shouldn't even know how to enter a kitchen.

Callahan seemed to sense her gaze and glanced back at her. “What, don’t believe I can cook?”

Leilani cleared her throat, pretending to be calm. “Just a little surprised.”

Callahan chuckled low. He took ingredients out of the refrigerator and began processing them with practiced movements.

“I learned when I was studying abroad.”

“The food there didn’t suit your taste?” Leilani asked curiously.

Over the next half hour, Leilani watched him bring out dish after dish from the kitchen—roast beef, grilled salmon, tomato soup....

Although they were home-cooked meals, they looked and smelled perfect, completely rivaling outside restaurants.

Leilani couldn’t help but ask, “Do you cook often?”

Why hadn’t she seen him cook the last time she was here?

Callahan shook his head. “I rarely do. Work is busy, so I don’t have much time. Usually, the staff prepares it and leaves it in the fridge for me to heat up.”

He paused, looking up at her with a smile in his eyes. “But perhaps I can cook more often in the future.”

Leilani’s hand paused. Pretending not to understand the implication in his words, she lowered her head and took a bite. “Oh. Then I’ll definitely have to come over to mooch off your meals more often.”

Callahan looked at the slightly red tips of her ears, the smile in his eyes deepening. “Sure. My door is always open.”