"Morning..." A single word, deep yet husky, made Titus Zane's body tense up, causing her to drop the spatula she was holding.
The arm wrapped around her waist extended forward, picked up the handle of the spatula again, and placed it back in her hand. Then, the slender fingers enveloped her hand as they gripped the spatula together, flipping the fried egg in the pan.
Throughout the whole process, Titus Zane remained stiff, feeling the man's intense chest pressed against her back, and the hot breaths brushing against her ear, the side of her face...
When Wesley Foley held her hand to cook the eggs together, she even clearly felt his lips seemingly unintentionally brushing her skin, tickling, and making her feel flustered.
At a loss, she heard Wesley Foley's warm voice sound again in her ear, with a hint of a smile, seemingly deliberately lowered, very deep and magnetic, "Turns out to be so skillful..."
Titus Zane...
