Chapter 808 Miss McKinnon and Mr. Brighthall Must Be Close
“Liar!” snarled Deirdre, scowling. She could not believe herself. Falling for another one of Brendan’s lies again!?
She turned away from him and ignored him.
Brendan locked his fingers into the spaces between hers and pressed his chest against her back. “Don’t be mad.” He breathed in her ears, his warm breath ticklish.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you? I should make you some pasta.”
“You?” Deirdre scoffed.
With injuries like that, he could set the whole kitchen on fire from something as innocuous as making pasta. Td rather do it myself. Leave me be.”
Brendan’s eyes trembled. A smile shadowed his lips. “Are you telling me you’re going to make a portion for me?” “How did you even come to that? I’m making pasta for myself. I ask you to leave because you’re getting in my way!”
She shoved him aside and took some leafy vegetables from a clean, clear bag. Deirdre had spent quite some time in the kitchen shortly after she was married, so she knew its layouts and where everything was by rote. Her sight had also recovered enough to make out vague shapes of everything, so making pasta was hardly difficult.
She was so hungry she cooked about half a pot. She filled a bowl for herself and left the rest on the stove. Seeing that, Brendan felt joy creeping into his chest and asked,
“Did you make it for the two of US?” “No, I made it for one of US, me. I was simply worried that I’d need seconds.”
The thought of cooking some for him simply never crossed her mind. Her appetite had grown a lot lately. Sometimes, she found herself craving seconds.
Brendan sat next to her and watched her eat, occasionally brushing strands of her hair away from her face. There was nothing but intoxicated adoration in his eyes.
“Wow, our kid sure has an appetite.”
Deirdre ignored him. When she was finally full, there was still some left, which quickly became Brendan’s. He managed to finish it all the way to the bottom of the pot, wolfing it down quickly without displaying his usual grace and patience. One might even wonder if he had been starving for days.
Only Brendan knew why he acted this way. It had been so long since he tasted Deirdre’s cooking.
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