Page 57 of American Royalty

“And I accept yours.”

More sweeping and washing. Skimming and clanging.

Unable to resist any longer, she stole a look at him. Even doing chores, he was mesmerizing. She wondered if there were YouTube videos of hot guys doing mundane tasks. Folding towels. Making lists. Sweeping. Preferably shirtless.

She’d have to look into that.

Jameson’s entry would be very popular. She was certainly getting tingles from watching him work. But his technique was a little off. He held the broom and dragged it toward him like... someone who’d never done it before!

Was this his first time?

He glanced up and halted midmotion. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Who, me? Nooo,” she said. Though she definitely had been.

“If you’d rather do this yourself, I can—”

“No, no, no! You’re doing a great job. Please continue.”

She bit her lip and returned her attention to her own tasks, genuinely touched he was helping her when he didn’t have to.

“You mentioned being bored,” he said. His technique was jacked up, but his approach was methodical, moving the debris from the perimeter to a central pile. “I thought you came early to relax before the celebration?”

“I did. But I’ve been working since I was thirteen years old. It’s a lot harder to turn it off than I thought.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he muttered, bracing an arm on top of the broom and shoving a hand through his hair.

“Really? You’ve been working since you were thirteen?” she asked, not hiding her incredulity.

“Since I was born, technically. And I’ve never managed to fully turn it off.”

That sounded dreadful! She guessed you could never make assumptions about someone else’s experiences.

“I know the area seems remote, but one of the neighboring estates is open for tours, the village has some nice shops and pubs, and Birmingham isn’t too far. There’s plenty to see on campus.”

She sprayed all-purpose cleaner on the stove top. “Sounds promising.”

“The Palace would prefer you keep a low profile, but if you get bored enough that the thought of attempting those tarts seems appealing, I give you permission to risk it.”

Dani laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I can assure you I’d have to be going stark raving mad to attempt anything in this kitchen ever again!”

“I’ll tell Margery to keep watch for any wild eyes or twitching.”

Their shared laughter cleared the air, leaving a companionable mood behind. “Good call.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Dani finished wiping off the stove top and bent to run the rag over the oven door. “Why not?”

“This may seem impertinent but... how did you get batter on the ceiling?”

How did shewhat?

She looked up and sure enough...

“Oh my God! If my nana saw that...” She moaned and straightened, covering her face.

“Your nana?”