Uncrowned Princess

26

The early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently rousing Isabella from her slumber. She stretched languidly, a smile playing on her lips as she remembered where she was – Ethan's family farm. The smell of coffee and something deliciously sweet wafted through the air, prompting her to investigate.

Padding barefoot down the stairs, Isabella followed her nose to the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before her with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

Ethan stood at the stove, his back to her, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular frame. An apron that proclaimed "Kiss the Cook" in bold letters was tied around his waist. He was humming softly, swaying slightly as he flipped what looked like pancakes in a skillet.

Unable to contain herself, Isabella let out a laugh. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Ethan spun around, a spatula in one hand and a goofy grin on his face. "Good morning, sleepyhead. I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast."

Isabella sauntered into the kitchen, her eyes twinkling. "Consider me surprised. Why didn't you tell me you could cook?"

"A man's got to have some secrets," Ethan replied with a wink. "Come on, I'll teach you how to make the famous Ethan's Irresistible Blueberry Pancakes."

"Irresistible, huh?" Isabella teased, sidling up next to him at the stove. "That's a bold claim."

Ethan handed her the spatula with a flourish. "Prepare to be amazed, my dear."

What followed was a comedy of errors as Ethan attempted to guide Isabella through the pancake-making process. Flour ended up on their faces, batter splattered on the countertops, and their first attempt at flipping a pancake resulted in a sad, misshapen blob on the floor.

"Okay, maybe I'm not cut out for this," Isabella laughed, wiping a smear of batter from her cheek.

Ethan chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You're doing fine. Here, let me show you."

He stepped behind her, his chest pressed against her back as he placed his hand over hers on the spatula. Isabella felt a shiver run down her spine at his proximity.

"Gently now," Ethan murmured, his breath warm against her ear. Together, they slid the spatula under the pancake and, with a quick flick of the wrist, flipped it perfectly.

"We did it!" Isabella exclaimed, turning her head to beam at Ethan. Their faces were inches apart, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

The spell was broken by the smell of something burning. "The eggs!" Ethan yelped, rushing to rescue the neglected pan.

As they settled at the table with their slightly overcooked but still delicious breakfast, Isabella couldn't help but ask, "So, who taught you to cook like this?"

A shadow briefly crossed Ethan's face. "My mother, actually. She used to say that a real man should know his way around the kitchen."

Sensing the shift in mood, Isabella reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "Well, she taught you well. These pancakes really are irresistible."

Ethan's smile returned, but before he could respond, Isabella added mischievously, "Though I think the cook might be even more irresistible."

Oh really?" Ethan's eyebrows shot up, a playful glint in his eyes. In one swift movement, he stood up, scooped Isabella out of her chair, and sat back down with her in his lap. "I think I need to test that theory," he murmured, pulling her in for a kiss that tasted of blueberries and promise.