Chapter 14
Chapter 14:
Austin cast a sidelong glance at Brinley, then let out a low chuckle. “You handle that knife quite well. Did you often cook for Colin in the past p>
Brinley didn’t bother looking up from the chopping board. Her voice was calm—almost indifferent. “Yes, I did. But looking back now, I guess all that effort was nothing more than a waste p>
Austin lifted a brow, mildly intrigued by her bluntness. “Oh? Do you regret it p>
Brinley gave a short laugh, sweeping the diced onions aside with a casual flick of her hand. “Why should I? For someone so undeserving, it’s best not to mention him at all p>
Austin’s hand paused for a moment as he studied her, curiosity sharpening his gaze. “So indifferent p>
“What do you expect?” Brinley raised her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “That I cry endlessly and act out some melodrama of heartbreak?” She shrugged lightly. “When it comes to love, you gamble. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. I can take the loss, and I know how to let go p>
𝗜ո𝘀𝘵a𝗻t aс𝖼𝖾𝗌ѕ о𝘯.с𝘰𝘮
Austin watched her for a few seconds before breaking into an amused laugh. “Interesting p>
Unmoved by his teasing, Brinley reached for a green pepper. “What else needs to be chopped p>
Without warning, Austin caught her wrist—firm, but gentle. “I’ll take care of the rest. You should rest p>
Brinley arched a brow at him. “Why? Do you think my cutting isn’t good enough p>
“No,” he said casually, releasing her. “It just occurred to me this is our first night under the same roof. You shouldn’t tire yourself out p>
Brinley hesitated, then laughed softly. “You do know how to be thoughtful.” She set the knife down, wiped her hands, and added lightly, “Fine. I’ll take you up on that p>
Without lingering, she turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Austin’s deep eyes followed her, a faint smile lingering on his lips.
Before long, he set three dishes and a soup on the dining table. “Come. Try them p>
Brinley eyed the plates.
One dish still had visible grains of sugar that hadn’t melted. The broccoli was overcooked, its edges tinged with black. As for the stir-fried beef, half of it was charred beyond recognition.
Brinley blinked, momentarily speechless.
At last, she asked dryly, “You looked rather skilled slicing the beef earlier. But your cooking seems… lacking p>
Austin remained unfazed. “I’ve trained myself with the knife, but heat control isn’t exactly my strength p>
Brinley didn’t know what to say.
Austin continued to watch her, clearly waiting for her to taste it.
With little choice, Brinley picked up her fork. She speared a piece of blackened beef, lifted it, and—shooting Austin a pointed look as he untied his apron—asked flatly, “Are you trying to upset me with your culinary adventures p>
Austin paused, then glanced up at her with clear amusement. “You’ve got quite the sense of humor p>
He pulled out the chair across from her, sat down, and picked up his own fork.