Raegan served a bowl and set it before Mitchel, yet Mitchel didn’t move, adopting a look that clearly meant he was expecting her to feed him.
Raegan shot him a look and remarked, “I noticed your hands were perfectly fine while you were working.”
Mitchel, well-versed in their exchanges, responded unabashedly, “My arm’s too sore. After seven hours of work, I can’t even raise it.”
Raegan found herself at a loss for words. Well, might as well feed him. She had fed him before, so it wasn’t a new task for her.
Gently blowing on a spoonful of porridge to cool it, she then held it out to him. Mitchel, showing his appreciation, sipped it with refined grace. His dining manners were impeccable, his demeanor calm and collected.
Feeling slightly anxious, Raegan inquired, “Is it to your liking?”
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It was her first attempt after all these years, after all. She thought it tasted fine, but was aware that tastes could vary greatly.
Mitchel, catching the hopeful look in her eyes, felt a warmth spread through him. After a brief pause, he complimented, “It’s very good, just as it was previously.”
Raegan, pleasantly surprised, prepared another spoonful for him. “Was I always this nurturing? I even made porridge for you.”
“Yes, you were always very caring when you were my assistant,”
Mitchel confirmed.
Raegan froze, a sense of disbelief washing over her. She recalled her graduation certificate. She had majored in design but never followed that path professionally. How deeply must she have loved this man to have quietly embraced the role of an assistant behind him?
“Thank you for your tenderness back then,” Mitchel said, his voice brimming with sincerity. Back then, he started to acknowledge his feelings for her, touched by her consideration and caring.
Raegan was taken aback by his gesture of gratitude, appreciating that he did not take her previous effort and sacrifice for granted. It warmed her heart slightly, diminishing the faint sense of bitterness she once harbored.
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Seeing Raegan caught in her thoughts, Mitchel teased her by pinching her cheek, adopting a playful tone, “I promise to treat you well from now on.”
“Who said I want that?” Raegan, cheeks flushed, kept feeding Mitchel.
Mitchel, compliant, didn’t speak up until he finished his porridge.
“You never said that. I just want to treat you well.”
“What?” For a moment, Raegan lost track of their conversation.
Mitchel, holding her face gently, emphasized each word, “I want to be good to you.”
Feeling her earlobes burn with embarrassment, Raegan turned away, swiftly changing the subject. “How did you convince my brother?”
Under his gaze, her blush deepened, highlighting the rosy warmth of her earlobes.
Mitchel leaned in, unable to hold back, and gently ki*sed her.
“Ah…” Raegan let out a soft murmur, her hands flying to cover her ears, feeling a warmth spread through her palms.