Mrs. Whittle and Mrs. Lindt have taken a few days off after I convinced them to rest. The old women deserve it for having stayed and cared for Natalie these past months. I’ve taken on the task of cooking our meals for the time being.

She rolls her eyes, averting her gaze with her cheeks flushed. She settles on an empty chair and inhales the scent emitted by the cheesecake in the oven, looking like an eager little hamster.

“I never knew you could cook,” she comments, eyeing the steaming salmon.

It’s been a week since Natalie’s casts were removed. To my relief, she’s already able to walk on her own and her wounds have healed well. Her bone surgery was successful, and she’s undergoing physical therapy for a full recovery.

“I couldn’t. William bought me a few cookbooks.”

I cock a brow, then take a slice and place it on her plate with pride.

She frowns. With an apprehensive expression, she pokes the fish on her plate as if making sure it’s not still alive. The look on her face is amusing, and I can’t help pinching her cheek.

“It’s not that bad. Try it.”

She winces.

“Is this your first time cooking?”

I chuckle heartily. Her innocence never fails to tickle me.

“Do you think, I, Derik Lewis, have the time to cook every day?” I ask haughtily.

Raising her head, she meets my gaze with a scowl.

“Can’t we just order food? I might get food poisoning at this rate. I don’t want to go back to the hospital!”

Feeling my brows twitch, I sit on the chair next to hers, grab a fork and start eating. She knows how picky I am when it comes to food. If I can’t convince her with my words, I know my actions will.

I can’t blame her though.

It really is my first time cooking.

Following my lead, she tastes the dish, making a slurping sound with the soup.

I’ve done my research and made sure to prepare foods that will help to heal her bones. And William, before flying back to San Francisco, showed me how to use the kitchen.

“Not bad,” Natalie chirps.

Raising a brow, I watch her take a scoop of wild rice and fill her bowl with chicken broth. The dishes are simple, but it took a bit of trial and error until I was content with my results.

“Of course.”

She swallows her food and licks her lips before letting out a giggle.

“Did you learn to cook for me?”

I pause and then shake my head. “No?”

“Geez. It wouldn’t hurt you to just admit it.”

I grin, rustling her hair on the top of her head.

“Food from restaurants is filled with preservatives and excess sugar. It’s not good for your health, especially while you’re still recuperating.”

Being in Natalie’s presence is a habit that’s turned into a necessity. Regardless of not speaking about it, it’s become a need every day to see her beautiful, innocent face and hear her sweet voice. Her intoxicating scent lingers in my senses, and it takes a lot of energy to restrain myself every time our skin touches.

I want to hold and claim her.

I want her more than anything or anyone in this world.

But it’s wrong.

She’s like a sibling, a sister that I’m compelled to protect. Regardless of not sharing blood ties, we are family, raised and taught the same morals by the same man.

Family…

These thoughts continue to concern me. Our relationship has gotten a lot better, and I want to cherish every moment with her. Yet, deep inside, I know that I would not be able to give her the kind of future she’s dreamed of–a home full of love and happiness.

“What are you thinking? Your phone’s ringing…” Natalie speaks impatiently, snapping me back to reality. Her plate is almost empty, and the oven’s timer just made a loud ding sound.

Nodding, I get up from my seat.

The caller is my buddy, Ashton.

Frowning, I walk away from the dining room and head to my study. I don’t want Natalie to hear the conversation.

“Bro!”

“What do you want?” I ask impatiently.

Ashton chuckles before letting out a deep sigh.

“It seems like you don’t treat me like a brother anymore at all! I’ll be shockedto death the day I receive your wedding invitation.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Massaging the bridge of my nose, I settle my the office chair, my gaze landing on a photograph. It’s a high school graduation photo of Natalie. She’s holding a bouquet of stargazers with Benedict’s hand on her shoulder, beaming proudly.

“I heard Natalie was in an accident.”

I feel the corner of my lips twitch. Did he call just to gossip?

“I’m hanging up.”

“You’re aware that Moore was not behind the car accident, right? Even still,Natalie’s parents also died in a car crash. It was just a coincidence that twovehicles were speeding up at the same time Natalie was rushing to arrive at thescene?”

“You and your conspiracies.”