Chapter 55:

"Arya. You really don't have to do this." Devon's prickly, mild morning voice made her skin rinse up.

When has breathing become this hard? Swallow, in and out.

She pushed the bowl of batter, before squeezing the wooden spoon around her hand. "I insist, after all, you did bring me lunch yesterday." She would never mention the part of the note. She couldn't even imagine what he would say.

He was quiet, his eyes scanning her rough morning hair, again she was not an early morning kind of person, she wondered why her hair always looked like a nest. Her face rough, and her pale silk nightgown that stopped right below her knee.

He was already dressed, ready for the day, while she was sulking, trying to get the sausages out of the pan.

He was rolling up his sleeve, his eyes never leaving hers.

"What are you doing?" She asked, mildly impressed but took the seconds to admire the biceps that poked underneath his shirt, her heart almost rolling out.

What in the hell was wrong with her?

He scooted