His Precious Love

Chapter 524

“W-Why did you stand outside the door? And what did you hear?” Intense fear that Carl had overheard the conversation between her and Curtis swamped Rayna, and her heart lodged into her throat.

Carl chuckled. “I heard you having a row with Mr. Curtis and saying that he was annoying.”

“That's all?”

Carl's eyes promptly lit up. “Don't tell me you had a fight with Mr. Curtis even earlier? Did you win?”

Phew! Luckily, he didn't overhear those matters Curtis and I discussed.

Relief suffused Rayna. Rolling her eyes at him, she snapped, “Where did you mind go? Why would we get into a fight? Besides, would he dare fight me when he's a man while I'm a pregnant lady?”

“It's a possibility.” Throwing two grapes into his mouth, Carl continued in a garbled voice, “Did you not notice that you're unbelievably hot-tempered with Mr. Curtis? You always scold him, so it's entirely possible that you got physical with him.”

The instant Rayna heard that, her face darkened at once. “When have I been hot-tempered?”

“It's true, Ms. Rayna. I've observed it. When you previously brought Mr. Hamilton over, you were incredibly gentle with him without the slightest hint of a temper. However, you're exceedingly fierce with Mr. Curtis. You hadn't talked to him nicely since he came, and you even chastised him for being annoying earlier.” Carl narrated his analysis to her, his tone confident.

Is that really me?

Stunned by his comment, Rayna pondered upon it and found that it was seemingly true, but she had never been aware of it.

Subsequently, Carl questioned in a murmur, “Do you still love Mr. Curtis, Ms. Rayna? I heard women are only so hot-tempered and impetuous before the person they love.”

Grabbing a few grapes, Rayna stuffed them all into his mouth and glared at him. “No! Stop running your mouth. You're almost as annoying as him. Eat your grapes!”

His cheeks puffed up from the bunch of grapes stuffed into his mouth. He couldn't even utter a single word. Utter helplessness deluged him.

Hmph! I've undoubtedly got it right and hit her sore spot. Look at her embarrassed expression! That's the best evidence!

Disdained by Rayna, he escaped to the kitchen to look for Curtis.

He thought the man had confidently offered to cook supper because he had attended some culinary classes and improved his cooking skills. Regretfully, the corners of his mouth twitched when he went into the kitchen and saw Curtis' clumsy movements.

After standing there and watching for a while, he finally couldn't help suggesting tactfully, “Say, Mr. Curtis... if you can't cook, we can order takeaway. There are still restaurants operating at this hour.”

The bun Curtis made the previous time remained vivid in his mind, and he never wanted to eat that again.

“I wouldn't think that you're mute if you remain silent,” Curtis enunciated without even turning back. Seeing that the oil in the pan was hot enough, he tapped the egg against the edge of the cookware and cracked it in.

Some of the oil in the pan splattered onto his shirt that had been rolled up to his elbows, staining it.

Ignoring it, Curtis instructed Carl, “Carry the pasta out and call Ms. Rayna to eat.”

“Okay.” Carl snagged two pieces of tissue and wiped his hands.

Fortunately, the countertop wasn't that high, so he could take the pasta by going on his tiptoes.

It was aglio olio with lots of protein.

Carl took a deep whiff, finding it pretty fragrant. Oh, I might have doubted Mr. Curtis wrongly. Despite the unskilled movements that render him like a novice, the pasta he made is quite good.

He carried the pasta out and hollered toward the living room, “Come and have aglio olio, Ms. Rayna!”

Rubbing his hands, he happily went back to the kitchen to carry the other plate out.

When he carried the second plate, he saw that the pasta was bare, with just some basil on top.

“This plate of pasta is mine, Mr. Curtis? Isn't there supposed to be a huge pile of grilled chicken on top? Where is it?” Carl asked Curtis, looking up at him with puzzlement in his eyes.

“I didn't bring much grilled chicken over. It's all on Rayna's plate,” Curtis answered casually.

“This is unfair, Mr. Curtis! I'm also a kid!” Carl protested, wearing an aggrieved expression on his face.

“I know.” Taking out the fried egg from the pan, Curtis carefully placed it on the plate in the boy's hand. “Fried eggs are rich in nutrients, and you were the one who asked for one.”

Words eluded Carl.

The fried egg on the pasta was all torn, evidence of Curtis' inadequate cooking skills.

Curtis wiped the oil stains on his hands. When he noticed that Carl was still standing there with the pasta, he quirked a brow and asked, “Why, is it not enough for you? I'll fry you another egg, then? There are quite a lot of eggs.”

Carl pouted. “This is favoritism, Mr. Curtis! There's obviously a lot of grilled chicken, yet you didn't even give me any!”

Curtis merely flashed him a smile. “Do you still want this pasta, then?”

Upon seeing that the man intended to take the plate out of his hands, Carl swiftly ran off with the pasta that only had a fried egg.

Rayna didn't want to eat at first, but she was rather hungry after having vomited the entire day and eating nothing at night.

She slowly went to the dining table and saw a plate of steaming hot aglio olio that smelled incredible. Then she spotted Carl trotting out of the kitchen with a plate in his hands.

Pulling out a chair, she sat down. When she saw that Carl only had a fried egg on his plate, she said in sheer surprise, “You love eating fried eggs so much that you don't even want grilled chicken?”

Carl's lips moved, and he was just about to reply when a chilly gaze suddenly fell on him.

Curtis, who had stepped out of the kitchen, had a threatening look in his eyes, seemingly promising to teach Carl a lesson in the next second if he dared complain to Rayna. Clocking the warning, Carl backed down and swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.