Reba was busy prepping in the kitchen.
:
” </b>
“Yeah,” Reba replied.
“How about I get you a nanny?” Ian suggested.
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Reba cut him off without missing a beat, her hands moving with confidence. She said, “No need. <b>It’s </b><b>a </b>great chance for me to learn.”
Ian snatched the knife out of her hand and said, “I got this.”
Reba protested, “Hey, I’m supposed to treat you. What are you doing?”
“I’m just afraid your cooking might kill me,” Ian shot back, the familiar banter ring up between him, Reba, and Jessica. He said, “For the sake of my own survival, it’s safer if I handle this.”
Reba rolled her eyes and shot back, “As if your cooking’s any less deadly.”
Ian raised his brows with a smug grin and said, “Guess what? I am actually a certified chef.”
Reba honestly hadn’t believed Ian at all, but as he ted dish after dish, each one looking so good it made her mouth water, her doubts disappeared in an instant.
Ian passed her the te of stir–fried veggies, radiating confidence from head to toe. He said, “Come on, give it a try–bet it’s way better than yours.”
Reba picked up her fork and took a small bite. Then, her eyes went wide with surprise, unable to hide just how shocked she was.
“Well? Isn’t it crazy delicious? Told you I’m pretty much a kitchen genius,” Ian boasted, totally sure of himself.
Jan was notoriously picky when it came to food, and whenever he gave something his stamp of approval, Reba and Jessica never failed to agree.
He had seriously put in the work to master his cooking, hoping that one day he could capture Reba’s heart through her stomach.
Reba shed him a thumbs–up and said, “Not bad.”
Ian’s grin just got smugger, lookingpletely self–satisfied.
Reba started setting the table, grabbing two sets of tes and utensils. Just as she was about to dig in,
someone knocked on the door.
Ian got up to answer it, calling out, “Who is it?”
<b>14:56 </b>Mon<b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>22 </b>
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Standing outside was Jeffrey: tall, sharp–featured, and absolutely unruffled, his poker face showing zero reaction at seeing Ian open the door.
Without a second thought, Ian mmed the door shut.
Jeffrey was quick to react, jamming his hand against the door to keep it from closing.
Ian put his whole weight into trying to close the door.
Neither one was backing down, and the door didn’t budge an inch in their little standoff.
Just then, Reba came out of the kitchen with two bowls of rice. She spotted Ian bracing himself against the door and headed over. She asked, “What’s going on? Who’s outside?”
Just as she finished speaking, Jeffrey gave a sudden burst of strength, and the door flew wide open.
Ian’s eyes practically popped out of his head. He thought, ‘Seriously? I just used every ounce of strength I had, and he wasn’t even breaking a sweat?‘
Reba shot Jeffrey a cold re and asked, “Why are you even here?”
Jeffrey made up an excuse. He said, “Samuel wants to wear that frog onesie. I came to fetch it for him.” He’d been here before and knew the ce like the back of his hand.”
Reba didn’t buy it for a second.
Jeffrey stepped inside, not ncing at anyone.
“Hold it right there. I’ll get it,” Reba snapped, obviously not happy about Jeffreying in.
Jeffrey stayed put, not moving another step.
Reba went to Samuel’s room. She found the frog onesie in the closet and packed it up. When she came back out, she saw Jeffrey sitting at the table, casually helping himself to the food as if he owned the ce.
Reba stared at Jeffrey.
Anyone with a shred of dignity would be dying of embarrassment right now. But Jeffrey remained unfazed.
Reba handed Jeffrey the bag and said, “Here’s Samuel’s clothes. You can leave now.”
Jeffrey took the bag from Reba, set it aside carelessly, rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms, and, acting as if he owned the ce, grabbed a fork and went straight for the dish closest to him.
Chewing the food, he thought, ‘Not bad at all. This is a waste onn
“Jeffrey,” Reba called out, clearly exasperated by how shameless he was being.
“Whatever, let him eat,”n said, totally unbothered. He just went to grab himself another te and a fork. He added, “With all this food, it’s not like having him here will make a dent.”
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Jeffrey stopped in the middle of chewing, a weird feeling prickling at him. He thought, ‘He makes it sound like I am the extra here.‘ Suddenly, his frustration red.
He shot back, “Why are you so keen to kick me out? Worried I’ll stumble across your little secret or something?<b>” </b>
Reba retorted, “Not everyone’s like you. And Ian’s nothing like Andrea.”
Jeffrey’s gaze grew colder, a storm brewing in his eyes. He was quite annoyed by the way Reba so familiarly calledn by his name. He lifted his eyes, his voice smooth but carrying an unmistakable pressure. “So, tell me–what kind of person is Andrea?”
Reba spat, “Shameless. And she knows she is the sidepiece, but she still goes for it.”
Jeffrey snapped, “So what do you call someone who knows she’s married but still shows up at her door in the middle of the night? What kind of game is Mr. Yeats ying?”
“We’re just friends,” Reba said.
“Andrea and I are just friends, too,” Jeffrey shot back, throwing her words right at her.
Reba shot back, “Don’t twist what friendship means. Seriously, which friends are out here hooking up, sleeping over, living together, and still telling their own spouse they want to take care of someone else for the rest of their life–and all before even getting divorced?”
“Well, I haven’t exactly seen any wives secretly inviting another man overte at night, hiding it from their husbands,” Jeffrey fired back, not even bothering to exin himself.
The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. Neither one was backing down.
Ian propped his chin up with one hand,pletely unfazed as ever. He called out, “Hey, Mr. Hanson.”
Jeffrey’s cold, indifferent gaze shifted tond on Ian.
Ian said, “You know what they say–if you’re stuffing your face at someone else’s table, you ought to show some respect. You’ve eaten so much of my food, and you still have the nerve to talk trash about me? That’s kinda outta line, isn’t it?<b>” </b>
Jeffrey asked, “Your food?”
Ian replied, “Yeah. Becky might’ve bought the groceries, but every dish tonight was made by me.”
Almost immediately, Jeffrey knewn was telling the truth. For a split second, Jeffrey’s poker face faltered–he looked almost as if he’d swallowed a lemon.
Jeffrey’s grip on his fork tightened. He thought, ‘No wonder the food tastes different this time.
Ian continued, “But hey, I’m big–hearted, so I won’t stoop to your level. After all, besides being Becky’s soon-
14:56 Mon, <b>Sep </b><b>22 </b>
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to–be ex–husband, you’re also Samuel’s dad. I guess I’ll cut you some ck.” With that, he picked up his fork and helped himself.
Those words cut like knives straight to Jeffrey’s heart. The fork bent in Jeffrey’s hand, unable to withstand his grip.
Reba said, “That’ll be 30 bucks.”
Jeffrey asked, “What?”
Reba nced at the fork and said, “Forkpensation fee.”
“Charging this kind of shady fee, aren’t you afraid karma’s going to catch up with you one day?” Jeffrey replied, his eyes dark as midnightpletely unreadable, not showing a trace of emotion.
AD