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... ood at what she was doing. Reed looked at Emy’s back. She was wearing a simple dress that, in Reed’s eyes, it was sleepwear. Her hair has a hair clam, so her long neck is noticeable.
“You don’t have to work hard. We can order,” said Reed.
Emy turned to him. “You know, Mr. Reed Greyson, food tastes better when mixed with love.” Reed’s eyebrows rose. “Taste what I cooked. You might love me after so that I don’t lose to you.”
Reed half smiled as he stared at Emy. She averted ...
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