Bound | H.S.

Chapter 15

☆☆☆

Harry cancelled his plans for the next day and sent Alex out to do whatever needed to be done. As a woman in our world, you quickly learned not to ask too many questions because the answers were rarely good.

Harry got ready first and when I walked into the kitchen dressed and showered, he was staring into the fridge with a frown on his face.

"Can you cook?"

I snorted. "Don't tell me you've never made breakfast for yourself?"

"I usually grab something on my way to work, except on the days when Marianna is here and prepares something for me." His eyes scanned my body. I'd chosen shorts, a tanktop and sandals since it was supposed to get really hot today. "I love your legs."

I shook my head, then walked toward him to peek into the fridge. He didn't step back and our arms brushed. This time I managed not to flinch. His touch wasn't uncomfortable and when he didn't startle me, I could actually imagine enjoying it.

The fridge was well stocked. The problem was I'd never cooked either, but I wouldn't mention that to Harry. I grabbed the egg carton and red peppers, and set them down on the kitchen counter. It couldn't be that hard to prepare an omelet. I'd watched our cook a few times in the past.

Harry leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms as I grabbed a pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Won't you help me? You can chop the peppers. You know how to handle a knife from what I hear."

That made the corners of his lips twitch, but he pulled a knife out of the block and stepped up to my side. The top of my head came only up to his chest with my flat sandals. I had to admit I kind of liked it.

I handed him the pepper and pointed toward a wooden cutting board because I got the feeling Harry would have started chopping right on the expensive black granite countertops. We worked in silence, but Harry kept sneaking glances at me.

I put a bit of butter into the pan, then seasoned the beaten eggs. I wasn't sure if I needed to add milk or cream, but decided against it. I poured the eggs into the sizzling pan.

Harry pointed his knife at the chopped peppers. "What happens to these?"

"Shit." I whispered. The peppers should have gone in first.

"Have you ever cooked?"

I ignored him and chucked the peppers into the pan with the eggs. I'd turned the stove to maximum heat and soon the hint of a burning smell reached my nose. I quickly grabbed a spatula and tried to flip the omelet over, but it stuck to the pan. Harry was watching me with a smirk.

"Why don't you make coffee for us?" I snapped as I scraped the half burnt eggs from the bottom of the pan.

When I thought the eggs were safe to eat, I spooned them onto two plates. They didn't really look all that tasty. Harry's brows rose when I put a plate down in front of him.

He sank down on the barstool and I hopped onto the one beside him. I watched him as he picked up the fork and speared a piece of egg, then brought it to his lips. He swallowed, but it was obvious he wasn't too impressed.

I took a bite as well and almost spat it back out. The eggs were too dry and too salty. I dropped my fork and gulped down half of my coffee, not even caring that it was hot and black.

"Oh my God, that's disgusting."

There was a hint of amusement in Harry's face. The more relaxed expression made him look so much more approachable.