Ivy
I turned my head towards the kitchen and blinked to find my mate trying to whisk something, his biceps rippling in the process while something seared in the pan. It took me some time to adjust to the sight.
Was he really cooking? As in…Asher Gray?
“You are cooking?” I couldn’t help but exclaim, folding my arms across my chest. Asher stopped whisking and I squirmed inwardly at the way his eyes glazed over my body and my naked legs.
“What’s with that tone,” he muttered, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “And nice choice of attire, Mrs. Gray,” I bit my lip, peeking over his shoulder to see what he was whisking so hard. It seemed like eggs.
“It’s hard to imagine you in a kitchen actually cooking,” I murmured. He turned around and threw me a disdained look.
“I know how
