Mr Grant, Please Be Gentle

The Internet was a big deal, and in order to divert Blanca Roach’s attention, Matthew Grant stayed by her and Alice’s side after he told Curtis Irwin to get a grip on it.

Alice was very happy, many times happier than eating her favorite snack.

After spending the afternoon with them, Matthew Grant came downstairs while Thea was preparing dinner for the day.

He took one look at the ingredients Thea had prepared, walked over, turned on the tap, and washed his long, white fingers carefully under the water.

Then he said to Thea, “I’ll do it.”

Thea was surprised, “Young master, that’s not quite right.”

Matthew Grant had already squeezed the kitchen knife, lowered his head, broken hair covered the delicate and good-looking eyebrows, the expression on his face was serious and calm.

Thea sighed at the side, how could she not listen to advice.Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

She is not afraid that Matthew Grant’s cooking does not match his status, she is worried that the young master’s cooking will not be palatable.

Looking at the young master’s serious cooking back, Thea sighed again, sorrowful and at the same time quite a bit of relief.

Matthew Grant must have wanted to cook a meal for the young lady himself.

Thea thought of this and consciously withdrew from the kitchen, it’s just that, if it’s not possible, she can cook another meal, it will not let the family go hungry.

“Young master, you should be careful with the knife, don’t hurt your hand.”

Matthew Grant gave a faint hint and continued to cut the vegetables in his hand.

At this time Blanca Roach was lying on a bed with Alice baby to take a nap, not knowing what was happening outside.

Blanca Roach was still in a hazy state of consciousness until a knock on the door woke her up.

She forgot where she was for a moment, and even forgot to put on her shoes before getting out of bed barefoot and walking to the door to open it.

When she opened the door, she yawned again, sleepy-eyed, with a layer of watery fog in front of her eyes, still awake.

Matthew Grant saw his cute little wife with messy hair and a wrinkled housecoat, and most importantly, a pair of white feet on the floor with nothing on.

Matthew Grant picked her up without saying a word, and before Blanca Roach could react, her arms were subconsciously wrapped around his neck.

Her voice was still hoarse from her nap, and she whined a little: “What are you doing?”

The little wife in her arms, when awake, clear cold indifferent pair of eyes, now dense with mist, with a light red at the corners of the eyes, extraordinarily seductive, wintry and not aware.

Want to bully hard …

Matthew Grant’s throat knot rolled up and down several times before he was able to suppress the restlessness in his body.

He strides towards the bed, despite holding Blanca Roach steady on his feet.

It was only when he put her down that he spoke slowly: “No shoes on, you’re getting back to your old ways, you little dummy.”

Blanca Roach is slow to look at her bare pair of feet, and unconsciously wiggled a few times.

She didn’t even realize how heavy the consequences of not wearing shoes were.

Matthew Grant is quite helpless, squatting down, taking her shoes aside and putting them on for her, with careful and patient movements.

“If you don’t wear shoes again, you’re not getting out of bed.”

You just don’t get out of bed.

Don’t get out of bed …

up …

Blanca Roach took a long time to realize what Matthew Grant was saying and subconsciously opened her mouth slightly and her face flushed, looking extraordinarily attractive: “Matthew Grant, you rascal!”

Tying the last bow, Matthew Grant put down Blanca Roach’s leg, lifted his head and raised his eyebrows, “What did I say? How is that rogue?”

Besides, she’s his little wife.

I didn’t expect Matthew Grant to be so brazen, so Blanca Roach’s face turned even redder under his gaze.