He led her into his kitchen, a massive, state-of-the-art space that she fell in love with instantly.
It was stunning, filled with every appliance she had ever dreamed of: a sleek cooktop, high-speed blender, smart oven, food processor, sous vide precision cooker, multi-function stand mixer, wine cooler, and even a vacuum sealer.
Her jaw practically hit the floor in awe.
"You like it that much?" he asked with a shrug.
"Like it?" she exclaimed. "I love it!" She darted around the room, touching everything like a kid in a candy store. "You've got everything in here, and it looks untouched!"
"That's because I don't cook," he replied nonchalantly.
"Then why have a kitchen like this?" she asked, her eyes practically popping at the sight of the fully stocked fridge and pantry.
"My cook handles everything," he said with a shrug. "She's very thorough with her space, so I suggest you don't mess it up—she bites."
"Is she on leave? Is that why you haven't had dinner?"
"Yes. She'll be back tomorrow," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Feel free to use whatever you want—but only in this room. Don't snoop around the house. Don't touch anything else."
She rolled her eyes. "What the hell, I'm not a kid, you know."
His gaze hardened. She raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fine! What would you like to eat?"
Instead of answering, he turned and walked out.
She shrugged and turned on some music on her phone. Almost immediately, he reappeared in the doorway, glaring.
"Is there a problem?" she asked, still swaying to the beat.
"No music," he growled.
She ignored him, continuing to roll her hips. Before she could blink, he strode across the room, grabbed her phone, and turned the music off.
Her breath hitched as he loomed over her.
"Well, I can't work without music," she muttered.
He left the kitchen and returned moments later with a pair of headphones, tossing them to her. "No noise," he snapped.
"What would you like to eat?" she called after him, but he was already gone, slamming the door behind him.
"Geez, Mr. Grumpy Pants," she muttered, shaking her head.
She decided on something simple yet comforting: crispy chicken and mashed potatoes. She chopped four large potatoes, boiled them, and seasoned the chicken she found in the fridge. The kitchen smelled amazing as she fried the chicken and prepared the sauce, her hips swaying to the beat only she could hear.
Minutes later, dinner was ready. She plated everything generously and set out to find him.
The search led her upstairs to a vast, blue-lit room with a pool—and him, floating effortlessly in its depths.
It was scorching, and she wondered if he'd mind her taking a quick dip. She slipped off her shoe and dipped a toe in, only to hear his sharp voice behind her.
"The way I knew you wouldn't listen."
She folded her arms and smirked. "Dinner's ready, Your Highness Grumpy Pants."
His brow arched, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Grumpy Pants? Is that a nickname or what?" he murmured, brushing past her as he climbed out of the pool.
Her stomach flipped at the sight of his dripping, muscular frame. It should be illegal for anyone to look that good.
By the time they reached the kitchen, he'd thrown on a black shirt, hiding his unfairly perfect physique. He sat down, his expression softening as he glanced at the food.
"Something wrong?" she asked as he took a bite.
His eyes shut, his jaw tightening as though something had hit him.
Then, without a word, he stood abruptly and left the room, retreating to his bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.
She stared after him, stunned. Anger flared as she grabbed the plate of food and dumped it into the trash. Tears stung her eyes as doubt crept in.
Did he hate her cooking? Was it awful?
Was she just fooling herself into thinking she was a great chef?
She wiped at her tears and sank onto the living room sofa, curling into herself. Her chest ached with frustration and disappointment until exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted into a restless sleep.
When he returned hours later, he found her fast asleep, shivering under the icy blast of the AC.
With a sigh, he fetched a light blanket from his room and draped it over her.
"Sleep well," he murmured, retreating to his room.
A soft smile curled her lips. "Not so grumpy after all," she whispered.
-----
Marlory woke up feeling unusually good. For a moment, she forgot where she was. She grabbed her phone and turned up the music, the beats echoing through the room.
Ever the morning person.
She danced her way to the kitchen, moving with so much energy that her moonwalk might have rivaled Michael Jackson's. She turned up the heat on the stove and began preparing breakfast.
Out came the flour, and she got to work on pancakes. Baking, flipping, and cracking eggs, she was in her element, juggling ingredients like a pro.
The first batch of pancakes sizzled on the pan, filling the kitchen with their sweet aroma.
Then she turned—and froze.
Her eggs tumbled to the floor as she saw him standing in the doorway, looking like he hadn't slept in a century. Beside him stood a sweet, older woman with a beaming smile.
"Oh my, what a summer angel!" the woman exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "She's so beautiful, son. Is this your girlfriend?"
"NO!" they both shouted in unison, startling the older woman.
"Well, she should be," the woman said warmly, walking over to Marlory and pulling her into a tight hug. Marlory's cheeks burned as a blush crept over her face.
The woman's gaze drifted to the pot Marlory had used the night before. "Oh, I was about to wash that—"
"She even made your favorite," the woman continued, her voice softening. "No one has made that since your—"
"Do not mention that," he cut her off sharply, his tone brooking no argument.
Marlory glanced between them, confusion flickering across her face.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable but his tone cold. "Marlory, it's time for you to go."
Her chest tightened, and she grabbed her phone, heading toward the door without another word.
Just as she reached it, she muttered under her breath, loud enough for him to hear, "Still as grumpy as ever. I hope the morning bites you."
She slammed the door behind her, leaving the house in tense silence.