The President's Accidental Wife novel Chapter 771

"Mr. Wright, welcome." Sherman said with a little nervousness.

Kingsley took off his black coat, and Sherman took it over and hung it on the coat rack. Then he sat down o n the couch. "I don't have coffee, just tea."

"Tea is fine..." Kingsley moved his lips and the corners of his lips curled up slightly.

She brought a cup of tea and placed it on the table. Kingsley took it up and took a sip. Then he raised his eyebrows and asked, "Are you cooking something?"

Sherman took a sniff, and then she rushed into the kitchen. She was cooking soup, but when Kingsley arrived, she completely forgot about it and it smelled like burnt.

It was fine without the soup. She started baking the lobster. The procedures were a bit complicated and she couldn't remember. Although she felt embarrassed, she poked her head out of the kitchen and asked awkwardly, "Mr. Wright, could you look up how to make baked lobster for me? Please read it to m e."

Kingsley turned on her iPad and searched for the recipe. Then he stood at the kitchen door and read it t o her.

His figure was tall and straight, his shoulders broad and hips narrow. A white shirt and smoky gray pants look neat on him. The man was charming.

His voice was low, husky, sexy and charming. Reading the recipe of cooking baked lobster in such a voice was a bit weird.

Sherman was attentive, though a little embarrassed. The kitchen was small. And when he stood by the door, it looked more narrow.

In the small kitchen, when she was cooking there alone, she felt a little lonely and solitary. Now the two o f them stood in the kitchen, one cooking, one reading the recipe, and their breaths mingled in the air. It looked cozy.

After about twenty minutes, the meal was finally ready, three dishes. That soup was ruined. She poured two glasses of wine.

"Is this how you cook every time?" Kingsley opened his thin lips, took a sip of the wine, and then picked u p the fork.

After dinner, it was late. Kingsley didn't stay any longer. He had his coat draped casually over his shoulders. He said, "It was a lovely meal tonight! Thank you for your treat."

"If that can be considered a meal..." Her eyes were halfopen, and she tucked the hair falling over her cheeks behind her ears. Her cheeks burned a little.

"Of course." He curled up his lips, bent his tall figure slightly, and put on his shoes.

She walked him downstairs. The rain was pouring. Sherman was standing on the top step. She didn't bring an umbrella with her. She would not get wet

there.

Holding a black umbrella with his big hand, Kingsley strode away. The rain trickled along the edge of the umbrella and splashed on his shiny black shoes.