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Chapter 36
~BLAIR
I almost talked myself out of it twice on the way over.
The containers were still warm in the insulated bag on the passenger seat, neat portions of the baked chicken, roasted vegetables, and the rice I had remade three times because the first two batches weren’t right.
At the beginning, bringing him food had been pure strategy another small way to claim space, to make myself impossible to ignore. Somewhere between the second and fifth time I packed a meal, the motive
had shifted.
I liked cooking for him.
I had taken classes for years, I enjoyed cooking and anytime I made a meal, the people around me always finished their plates and begged for more.
I had a dream. One day I wanted a restaurant with my name on the door that didn’t need
my billionaire last name to matter.
Until then I would keep cooking, keep practicing until I had all the recipes I needed.
In the past, Chase would have plates left in his fridge, meals adjusted to whatever he was in the mood for, he accepted it all without ever really tasting it.
He would thank me absentmindedly with a vague nod, his eyes glued to the flickering screen of his phone. The plate in front of him was cleared of food, yet his attention remained elsewhere. I never felt entirely certain the meal was that impressive, but my family’s constant praise about the taste suggested otherwise.
With Grayson, I wanted to watch.
I wanted to see whether he noticed the balance of the sauce…whether he ate like someone who appreciated the work and attention to detail I put in.
I made my way through the locker room.
A staff member had already waved me through with a kind smile that was reserved for the captain’s wife.
I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and stepped inside.
There was an immediate reaction to my arrival.
A low whistle cut across the room. Then another.
“Well damn,” Callum called from his stall, grinning as he pulled a shirt over his head. “Lunch delivery and a view. Shaw, your marriage perks are insane.”
Marcus leaned out from behind his locker door. “Please tell me there’s enough for the rest of us. I’ve been eating cafeteria snacks for three days.”
Theo, already half-dressed for the afternoon session, pressed a hand to his chest. “I’ll trade anything for whatever’s in that bag.”
Grayson closed his locker with a loud bang and turned.
The frown hit his face the second he registered me standing there with food.
Not surprise exactly-he had stopped looking purely surprised by my appearances, but something tight and wary, like he was already wondering what I was up to.
“I cooked for you,” I said, lifting the bag slightly
Successfully unlocked!
The room made a collective noise of exaggerated heartbreak.
“Too bad, boys,” I added, scanning the row of grown men looking personally betrayed. “This meal is
Chapter 36
specifically for Grayson.”
Callum groaned. “Cruel.”
“Unethical,” Marcus said.
“Marriage has changed her, Theo muttered. “I thought Monroes were generous.”
75 voucher
! ignored them and walked the rest of the way to Grayson’s stall, setting the bag on the bench beside him. He looked down at it, then back at me, the frown still in place. There was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes that was almost funny.
“It’s not poisoned,” I said, rolling my eyes. “If I wanted to cause you physical harm, I’ve had better opportunities than lunch.”
“That’s reassuring,” he said flatly.
“It’s chicken, roasted vegetables, and rice. Nothing dramatic. You can eat it or let it go cold while you stand there wondering why I did it.”
Around us the teasing continued in lower voices. Grayson shot a look down the row that quieted most of it without a word. Then he focused on me again, closer now that I was inside his space.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he said.
“I know.”
“So why did you?”
Because the original plan had been to irritate him and anyone who still thought he belonged to them. Because cooking was the one thing I did that felt like mine. Because Chase had spent years accepting plates without ever looking at me the way I sometimes caught Grayson looking when he forgot to guard his expression. Because I wanted, for reasons I was not interested in examining in a locker room full of hockey players, to see this particular man take a bite of something I made.
“I felt like cooking,” I said instead. “And you’re the one who has to eat like an athlete every day. Consider it a public service.”
His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. He opened the bag, cracked the lid on the top container, and the smell rose between us. A couple of the guys made suffering noises from their stalls.
“It looks good,” he said.
My stomach did this weird thing. I was actually blushing because he said it looked good. Not even from him tasting it. Since when did I act this way around Grayson?
Something was wrong. Something had definitely changed and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
“I know,” I replied, because arrogance was safer than the alternative.
Callum cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Share, Mrs. Shaw. Offer the rest of us. We are all starving.”
“Absolutely not.” I took a step back, already turning toward the door before the heat in my face could become obvious. “It’s all for my husband, If you’d like some, ask him.”
I said it to tease Grayson but why did it feel intentional? Like I meant those words?
The teasing worked, because he started coughing from the shock of my words before he caught himself.
I left the locker room with their complaints following me into the hall. I didn’t stick around to watch him eat it. Though, I maybe should have.
I wanted him to like it.
I inwardly groaned. Since when did I start caring about his opinion on my food?
Chapter 37
Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.