Chapter 506

He withdrew his gaze, his lips curling into a playful smile as he leaned in close to his wife’s ear. “Come on, we’re adults. Nothing shameful about discussing this.”

“Shut up!” If there hadn’t been people in front of them, Ivy would have bolted right then and there.

Thankfully, it was almost their turn in line. When the cashier finished scanning their groceries, Jamison suddenly reached out. “Wait, one more thing.”

His long arm stretched back to the shelf, and he grabbed the thinnest, most expensive box of—well, protection—and handed it to the cashier. The cashier had seen it all before and barely batted an eye. Still, maybe Jamison was just too handsome, because as she took the little box, her cheeks inexplicably flushed, and her gaze turned shy.

Ivy couldn’t handle the embarrassment. Before Jamison even paid, she ducked her head and made a quick escape. Jamison caught up to her outside, groceries in hand, grinning. “What are you running for? We’re not criminals, you know.”

Ivy waited until he was at her side, then spun around to glare at him, her eyes blazing with a mix of mortification and outrage. “Admit it. Grocery shopping was just your excuse. Buying that was your real motive!”

Jamison burst out laughing. “That’s unfair. First things first—we need to eat before we do… anything else.” He deliberately paused, then put on a perfectly serious face. “As the old saying goes: a full stomach is the prelude to romance. It’s just the way things go.”

Ivy couldn’t even look at him after that. All the way home, she refused to walk beside him.

Once inside, she suddenly remembered, “I was supposed to stop by Golden Maple Estate first, but you dragged me here.”

Jamison carried the groceries into the kitchen and called over his shoulder, “Need to pick something up? I’ll drive you by tomorrow morning on the way to campus.”

“No need. It’s just a few clothes. I’m going to the hospital with you tomorrow anyway—the car’s still there. I’ll drive myself over and grab them after.”

“I can…” Jamison started, but she cut him off, “No, I’ll go myself. You don't chauffeur me back to school.”

Jamison glanced at her, a little helpless. She trailed him into the kitchen, a touch of worry in her voice. “Your work at the hospital keeps you so busy. I heard patients come from all over just for you. You should focus on your job. I don’t want to be the femme fatale who distracts the famed ‘Miracle Surgeon’ from his calling.”

Jamison chuckled. “Where do you hear all this?”

“Boyd Ludwig. He absolutely idolizes you.”

“That kid gossips like an old lady.”

Ivy just watched as he unpacked the groceries, curiosity getting the better of her. “So, what’s the plan? Can I help? It’ll go faster.”

Jamison shot her a smile. “Getting hungry?”

“A little…”

He leaned in and stole a kiss, his voice dropping suggestively. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied tonight.”

Ivy rolled her eyes and pinched his waist in retaliation.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“Less talking, more cooking. If you keep fooling around, I swear I’ll become a widow tonight!”

The kitchen, bright and spacious, filled with the sound of their laughter and conversation as they worked side by side, sharing stories about their day—work for him, classes for her.

Once upon a time, Mr. Jamison would never have set foot in a kitchen. Now, he was perfectly content to roll up his sleeves and cook for the woman he loved. And once upon a time, the city’s most dazzling socialite wouldn’t have been caught dead in an apron, but here she was, wielding a chef’s knife for her husband. Love, in that moment, took on a tangible form—melting into the everyday, bubbling in the simmering soup, sparkling in the shared glances and secret smiles.

After more than half an hour of bustling around, dinner was finally ready. Unfortunately, the pork chops were a bit burnt, the beef overcooked, and the steamed fish a little too dry. Only the greens were passable.

“So, should we eat this or call for takeout?” Dr. Jamison asked, eyeing his first attempt at dinner with no small amount of worry.

Ivy, ever the pragmatist, waved him off. “What’s the worst that can happen? You’re a surgeon. If we get food poisoning, you’ll know what to do.”

He chuckled, “I doubt it’ll come to that. At worst, it’ll just taste a little rough.”

Maybe love really does make everything taste better. Once the dishes hit the table, neither of them found the food that bad. In fact, with each bite, it seemed to taste better, and soon there was hardly anything left.

Afterwards, Jamison couldn’t stand the lingering smell of the kitchen on him, so he headed for the shower, inviting Ivy to join him…

But Ivy was preoccupied—she hadn’t heard from Katrina all evening and was starting to worry. “You go ahead. I’ll call Katrina real quick.”

Jamison, knowing how much she cared, didn’t press. There was always later.

Ivy dialed Katrina’s number. It rang for a long time with no answer. Her anxiety mounting, she tried again. This time, the call finally connected.

“Hey, Ivy…”

“Katrina! Are you okay? I tried calling before, and you didn’t pick up—I was starting to worry—”

“Relax, I’m fine. I trashed the house, my stepmother called the cops, and now the whole family’s at the station. Been a little busy,” Katrina replied briskly, her tone so matter-of-fact that Ivy was stunned.

“Are you hurt?” Ivy asked at once.

“Just a scratch, nothing serious.”

Before she could finish, Ivy heard a policeman calling in the background. Katrina hurried on, “Don’t worry, I’m fine here. I’ll call you when things calm down.”

“Okay,” Ivy agreed, then, just before hanging up, added, “Do you want me to call a lawyer for you?”

“No need. I already got my advisor to help out.”

Ivy had almost forgotten—Katrina studied law, and her advisor was a heavyweight in the field. Looked like the Lester family was in for a rough time. Not that they didn’t have it coming.

Even after the call, Ivy couldn’t quite relax. She got up and went to find Jamison. She knocked on the bathroom door. “Jamison?”

“Yeah?” came his voice, muffled by the running water.

“Um… Katrina said she went back to the Lester family house, trashed the place, her stepmother called the police, and now the whole family’s at the police station—I’m a little worried, so I…”

She trailed off as the water abruptly stopped. A few seconds later, the glass door slid open.

“What did you say? The water drowned you out,” Jamison asked, shampoo still foaming in his hair, wiping water from his face to look at her.

“I—” Ivy started, but her words caught in her throat as her eyes couldn’t help but linger on him—his strong, sculpted chest, and then drifted even lower…