A slow, triumphant smile spread across Grayson's sharp face. It was an arrogant, ridiculously handsome smile that lit up his dark features like sunlight breaking through heavy storm clouds.
"Did you hear that, Mrs. Baker?" Grayson proclaimed, standing up in a single, fluid movement. He folded his broad arms across his chest with supreme pride. "She has declared my culinary masterpiece superior! My skill remains unmatched across all realms!"
Mrs. Baker looked at the burnt, sunken pastry on the plate, then at Mailah's soft, loving smile, and let out a gentle sigh. "If you say so, Mr. Grayson. However, if your dark skills are so vast, perhaps you can explain why there is a thick layer of white flour covering the kitchen ceiling."
Grayson's broad chest deflated by a fraction of an inch. He cleared his throat, adjusting his crisp white shirt cuffs. "That was a tactical flour dispersion. It stabilizes the air moisture."
