Chapter 864: Chapter 864: Was She Being Flirted With?
Alice used to be happy too, but that happiness was fleeting and always carried a sense of desolation and unease not befitting her age. Sotis, Catherine could even keenly sense that Alice’s happiness was just to set her mind at ease.
But now it’s different, Catherine could feel that Alice’s happiness was pure, a joy that was free from any worries and completely in line with her heart’s content.
Here, Alice is just a child, a three-and-a-half-year-old child, who doesn’t need to worry about her mother being beaten, nor does she need to hide and run with her. It’s a joy that cos from the bottom of her heart, a truly pure happiness that belongs to a child.
Catherine watched the three people in the living room and couldn’t help but stop what she was doing and simply gaze at them, once again clearly realizing her own selfishness.
How could she deprive Alice of her happiness for her own personal interests!
Benjamin Jones’s attitude had been clear several tis—he liked her. This liking might not be enough to support a marriage, but why shouldn’t she be brave and give it a try, for herself and for Alice!
With a decision in her heart, Catherine’s movents beca more nimble, and her mood shifted as she looked again at the three in the living room.
After spending so ti with Alice, Benjamin stood up and walked over to the kitchen area. From the open kitchen, he could clearly see Catherine’s movents; she was deftly chopping at, and beside her, a clay pot bubbled, wafting out a rich aroma. His curiosity piqued, he asked, “What’s for breakfast today?”
“Fish congee with rice rolls, it’ll be a while longer.” Having figured things out, Catherine was more at ease with Benjamin, no longer feeling awkward as before.
Benjamin sensed this change in Catherine and raised his eyebrows slightly, his eyes landing on the vegetables she was chopping, “What are you making now?”
“You can’t eat this; it’s prepared for Aunt Jones.” Although Mrs. Jones said she had already eaten, Catherine, out of politeness, still prepared stir-fried pork strips with her homade sweet bean sauce for her.
Benjamin, “…”
“So I can only have congee?” Benjamin said this with an inexplicably slight sense of grievance in his tone.
“I’ll make you a few vegetarian buns. Just make do for now.” After saying this, Catherine busily continued her work without paying any further attention to what Benjamin wanted.
Benjamin did not leave, but leaned on the white marble bar with a casual look as he watched Catherine cook.
Catherine finished chopping the pork strips, marinated them, then took out the almost-finished dough, started kneading, and then began wrapping buns. Upon putting them in the stear, she looked up to find Benjamin had been standing there the whole ti, watching her. Perplexed, she touched her face, asking, “Is there sothing on my face?”
Benjamin shrugged nonchalantly, “No. You do your thing, don’t mind .”
He just thought that watching this woman cook was incredibly pleasing to the eye.
Catherine was puzzled and said “Oh” before bowing her head to concentrate on her tasks, but felt slightly uneasy as she sensed his gaze on her. Unable to bear it, she looked up and said, “Why don’t you go keep Alice company?”
She could clearly feel that Mrs. Jones had been glancing over at them several tis.
“But I want to keep you company,” Benjamin said naturally, his usual cold deanor making those flirtatious words seem exceedingly ordinary.
Catherine, “…”
Was she being flirted with?
For the first ti, Catherine thought this man was really insufferably slick.
After calming her fluttering heart, Catherine looked aningfully at the man and said, “Alright then.”
Benjamin raised an eyebrow, feeling even more strongly that her attitude had changed.
But after saying that, Catherine ignored him and went on with her own business.
The kitchen was quickly filled with a rich aroma, and Catherine had no qualms about bossing the idle man nearby, “Can you hold this for ?”
Benjamin stepped forward. Although he didn’t say anything, his mood was extrely good. Usually, Abigail couldn’t wait to distance herself from him, firmly nailing her identity to that of a nanny, never overstepping boundaries with him. But today, she actually called for his help.
His faint suspicions just now were indeed correct.
Carrying the clay pot, Benjamin could not suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It caught Mrs. Jones, who had co with Alice, completely off guard. If she was surprised to see her usually cold and aloof son smiling warmly in his bedroom this morning, then seeing him now holding a clay pot with a full-faced grin was utterly astonishing. She hastily took out her phone and snapped several photos of her son.
Benjamin, disturbed by the sound of his mother taking pictures, looked up in confusion, “Mom, why are you taking pictures of ?”
Who doesn’t know he dislikes being photographed?
“Who’s taking pictures of you? I’m photographing the clay pot.” As she spoke, Mrs. Jones sent the photos to her husband, not forgetting to add the ssage, “See? When pigs fly!”
Benjamin looked down at the clay pot in his hands. What was so photo-worthy about it?
At that mont, Catherine ca out with more food, and Benjamin hurriedly set the pot aside to assist her.
Catherine didn’t refuse, handing the items to him before going to get the rest.
Benjamin then served porridge for the three of them.
Mrs. Jones had already been enticed by the fragrance earlier, but since the pot was covered, the aroma was contained. As soon as Benjamin lifted the lid, the sll of the fish and rice broth flooded the air. Mrs. Jones, who had already eaten breakfast, suddenly found her appetite returning, bringing her nose closer, “What kind of porridge is this? It slls so good?”
“Carp porridge, made with crucian carp. Aunt Jones, please try it,” said Catherine, just as she ca out, placing the shredded at, thin pancakes, and scallions on the dining table.
Mrs. Jones couldn’t wait to take the bowl and chopsticks from her son, but alas, the porridge was too hot to eat imdiately. She turned her attention to the shredded at beside her, “What’s this?”
“This is a regional snack from where I’m from. You place the shredded at, scallion, and cucumber on the thin pancake, then add so homade sauce. Please, try it,” Catherine explained, making one as a demonstration.
Mrs. Jones followed suit, layering the ingredients in the pancake as Catherine had shown, finally dipping it in the sauce. After just one bite, her eyes widened slightly with delight, “This is delicious!”
Catherine smiled, “If you like it, please have so more.”
Mrs. Jones savored the al, nodding at Catherine with satisfaction. The combination of at with crunchy cucumber and scallions, paired with the stir-fried shredded at, was delightful. And the sweet bean sauce was excellent, surpassing any she had tried before.
“Where did you buy this sauce?” asked Mrs. Jones, unable to resist eating a third pancake.
Catherine was pleased that Mrs. Jones enjoyed the food she had made and cheerfully replied, “This is a secret recipe my father ca up with. If you like it, I can make so for you to take ho. It’s great for soup, noodles, or with pancakes.”
“You made it yourself?” Mrs. Jones was surprised.
Catherine nodded, and while handing Alice the pancake she had just wrapped, she went to grab a second one but encountered a large hand reaching out, already seizing the pancake from her grasp. Looking up, she saw Benjamin who had gotten a step ahead and grabbed the pancake she was holding.
The two exchanged a glance; Benjamin tightened his grip secretly, and Catherine didn’t back down, “You can’t eat that.”
“I can.”
“No, you can’t!”
And so, a standoff began.
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