Page 16 of His Asset
My face heated.“Oh, of course it is.”
I’d had plastic cutlery at the facility, as well as at Adam’s.It hadn’t occurred to me that metal knives had different uses, just as it had never occurred to Adam that I could hurt myself with boiling water just as easily as with a sharp blade.
I buttered the toast while Reuben pulled the bacon from the pan and poured the eggs in, stirring them with a spatula in calm, practiced movements.Everything he did seemed measured, like someone used to following a routine down to the second.
I watched, fascinated by the process, the soft scrape of spatula against pan oddly soothing.
“Anyone would think you’ve never cooked before,” he teased.
I winced.“I haven’t,” I admitted softly.
He paused, glancing over at me like I was something rare behind glass.“Were you born with a silver spoon in your mouth?”
I frowned.“What does that mean?”
His brow creased.“It means you’re from a rich family and never had to worry about much.”
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.“Do I look or act rich?”
He turned off the burner, dropped the spatula onto the bench with a soft clatter, and reached for my hands.He turned them over, examining my palms with quiet intensity.“You have soft hands and pale skin.”
“Unlike your rough hands,” I murmured.I looked up at the sharp lines of his jaw, the cool steadiness of his eyes, his lightly-colored bare chest.“But you’re not tanned either.”
He shrugged.“Genetics.My parents were both blond and pale-skinned.”He released my hands and turned back to the stove.“What about your parents?”
My heart skipped a beat.I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady it, but a flicker of tension must’ve shown on my face.
He turned off the stove again and reached for my arm, gently guiding me to the island counter.I sank onto one of the stools.
“Are you all right?”he asked, voice low but focused.
I nodded, relieved when my reaction seemed to pull him away from the question.
“Let me get you some juice,” he said, already moving.
He opened the fridge, light once again spilling across the floor.The glass bottle clinked faintly against another as he pulled it from the door.He poured the juice smoothly, no wasted movement.
I accepted the glass with a grateful nod and drank deeply.“Thank you.”
He studied me as I drank, gaze cool but intent.Adam had looked at me like he was trying to understand me.Reuben looked like he was calculating something.
“Aren’t you feeling well?”
“I’m fine,” I said.“I’m considered extremely healthy.”
Unlike the rest of my brethren.
He smiled.“That’s good to hear.”
I relaxed slightly, grateful he didn’t pry further.
He nodded toward the stove.“I hope you like your bacon crispy.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He returned to the pan, plated the food, then carried the two dishes over.The scent hit first, salty, rich, mouthwatering, and my stomach clenched with hunger.
He slid onto the stool beside me, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.“Let’s eat.”