Harley’s P.O.V.
“You!”
That word slipped out of my tongue like a traitorous whisper, making me realize my mistake in a split second. My hand flew to my mouth as the inner council of my rational mind disapproved of my bold remark.
Carlos paused, the carton of eggs in his grip stilled. He turned as his brows raised in a pleasant surprise, lips curving slightly.
“Come again, princess?”
Shoot!
Panic flared through me as I spoke hurriedly, rectifying my mistake.
“I-eggs. With you know, yolk and stuff. You, you make the eggs. That’s what I meant.”
Goddess, I wanted to die, crawl under the marble island, and never be seen again.
But nope!
Carlos didn’t let me off the hook easily. He set the eggs down with a deliberate care, leaned forward on the corner and titled his head, the ghost of a pleased smirk playing on his lips.
“Hmm. Pretty sure that’s not what you said, princess.”
My cheeks burned, turning cherry tomatoes as I buried my face in my hands, begging him.
“Please cook and pretend
