"How can you not understand?" Nathaniel Lynch frowned. "I'm just giving you some well-intentioned advice."
Ethan Shaw hadn't had a chance to take off the black apron Naomi Kenway had made him wear, afraid he would burn himself again.
Seeing Ethan Shaw still wearing an apron for household chores, Nathaniel Lynch felt a wave of contempt. He'd originally thought that while Ethan was arrogant, he at least had a commanding presence. But now, he just looked like a henpecked weakling.
"A grown man, holing himself up in the kitchen. People would laugh their heads off if they heard about this," Nathaniel Lynch said.
"I think you're the one who should be laughed at, you underdeveloped simpleton."
Naomi Kenway chuckled, descending the stairs.
She hadn't wanted to start a fight with Nathaniel Lynch, but who knew he'd be so clueless? Every word he spoke reeked of masculine pride and entitlement. In his eyes, cooking was a shameful activity, a burden for women to bear.
