Page 65 of His Sunshine Baby

“What?”

“Well, Danny is away and I hate cooking, so…”

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I saw a microwave and a freezer in that kitchen, Elena. Even you should be able to use those.”

“Well, I usually do, but my cramps were killing me.”

He sighs.

“I can’t believe you.”

“Stop making fun of my poor culinary skills.”

“Non-existent, you mean.”

I growl at him, a bit annoyed. He is having way too much fun mocking me. I grab another slice of my delicious pizza. Damn, even this cheese is so much better than the one I usually buy! I can’t stop eating, but I don’t care. My cramps have reduced, and my stomach is very demanding.

“Alright, tell me how you got so good at this. Even chores, you cleaned the whole place in only one hour!”

Which is both annoying and embarrassing, if I am honest. Nathaniel shrugs and grabs his coffee, leaning back on the couch. I put my feet on his lap, ready to listen.

“I used to do the chores for my brothers when we were younger. Our dad was good for nothing at home, leaving us on our own. Damian worked himself to the bone, and Liam was too young, so I started doing most of the chores naturally when our mother fell ill. It was my way of helping Damian, and I liked it. It kept me from thinking of the most annoying things or worrying. I just had to focus on cleaning, washing, etc. It was simple, and I liked cooking from the start anyway. My mom used to teach me when I was a kid. She loved it, especially with her French roots.”

“You have French roots?”

Now that I think about it, I did notice he had no problem pronouncing some of those fancy words off menus. He nods.

“From Mom, yeah. She was born and raised in the south of France before she came here to study. She taught us.”

“So, do you speak French?”

“Évidemment.”

I smile, amused. Damn, he even speaks French, that is so damn sexy. I look around, wondering what I can ask.

“Alright, teach me some French! I mean, I know the basics,bonjour, merci, bon appetit.”

“That’s a good start, Mademoiselle Whitewood.”

“How do you say I’m hungry?”

“J’ai faim.”

“I want to eat some pizza?”

“Je veux manger de la pizza.”

I chuckle, amused. I’m pretty sure I won’t remember any of this, but hearing Nate speak French is so damn cute! I look around, and my eyes end up on my slice.

“How do you say chicken?”

“Poulet.”

“Mushrooms?”

“Champignons.”

---