Chapter 220: Speechless
Alison stepped out of the tent just as Jack finished cooking.
The air was filled with an enticing aroma.
“What are you cooking?” she asked, wanting to get closer for a look.
But Jack shifted his body, blocking her view.
“No peeking! Just sit tight and wait for dinner. It’ll be ready soon,” he said with a smile.
She shook her head with a smile. “No need for any help?”
He waved, smiling. “No need! This is my first time cooking, it might not be gourmet, but I picked the ingredients carefully, and it won’t taste bad.”
“Then what can I do?” she asked.
“Just sit back and wait to eat,” he said with a smile.
“Jack, should we light a fire later? I’m actually looking forward to living like mountain folk up here. It’s a shame it’s only for two days.”
He nodded. “Yes. Otherwise, with you being so pretty, what if you attract wolves?”
She retorted, “Hey, it’s your flesh that attracts wolves.”
He smirked, “But you smell delicious.”
She stormed over and pounded his back hard. “You jerk!”
He laughed. “Go ahead. Your massage technique is quite good.”
She was angry. “You…”
Speechless, she could only stand there, glaring at his back.
Suddenly, he turned around and held a piece of meat to her lips. “Here, taste this. Is it fragrant?”
She stubbornly turned her head away. “No.”
He coaxed, “Eat it. Don’t be so petty. Come on, just one piece.”
He touched her lips with the meat.
“Jack…”
“What? Go ahead.”
“The marriage certificate… I mean Aimée and you… Did she really agree to the divorce?” Alison frowned.
“Aimée and I never actually got married. I only agreed to marry her to… to see you.”
Hearing this, tears streamed down her face.
He comforted, “Don’t cry. Forget it. Alison, is the meat cooked through?”
“Yes.” She replied through sobs.
“Then let’s eat!” he exclaimed, releasing her and dashing to fetch cutlery and bowls.
Only then, through her tear-filled eyes, did she see the stew simmering in the pot before her—a medley of ingredients mingling together and releasing an enticing steam.
“Goodness, what did you cook?” she asked.
“It’s a stew.” Truthfully, he couldn’t cook at all.
He ladled a generous bowlful and placed it before Alison. She took a bite.
Perhaps she was hungry, she found it delicious—the flavors of all the ingredients melded together.
After the meal, he washed the dishes and pots, tidying up everything.
“Jack, come here,” she called.
Jack walked over. “My dear, what can I do for you?”
She threw herself into his arms and rubbed against his chest. “Jack, thank you.”
“Hey, I don’t want your thanks,” he said.
“Then what do you want?” she asked.
“Give me yourself,” he said with a grin.
“You…”
He cut her off. “Don’t hurry, just wait for a while.”
He held her tighter.