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Chapter Forty Six

Logan

THERE IS NOTHING more satisfying than coming home from work and finding a warm dinner from your woman.

"I made it myself," she says, pulling a chair for me. She looks so domestic a widely... There is something got about that.

She has her hair covered and on her dress an apron. I can't stop looking at her.

"Are you scared that it might be horrible?" she asks, I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Don't worry, I have a lot of practice when it comes to cooking. I promise it won't be as horrible as you think," she says serving me the food from the dishes on the table. The aroma itself is enough to get my mouth watering.

"I haven't said anything. You are the one planting the thought in my head. Why do you sound so unsure yet you said you have experience in this," I tell her.

"I do, it's just that I haven't cooked in quite some time. I think I might be somehow out of practice," she says.

"Well, have you tasted it yet?" I ask.

"No," she says, putting cutlery on a plate.

"What? Why?" no
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