Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
BEAUTY AND THE GRUMP
Ella
“Every day feels magical with him. Every day feels like pink.” – E
T he bright morning sun streams through the kitchen windows, bathing everything in a lovely and warm glow. With a wide smile on my face I stand by the stove, feeling a sense of excitement in the air. Today is going to be a good day. The best day.
I can feel it.
Yesterday, I felt bad about myself, but today I woke up with a positive attitude of excitement and happiness filling my heart, thanks to the wonderful surprise Shaw gave me last night. I still can’t believe it. My mind struggles to process the fact that not only did he give me thoughtful gifts, but he also apologized and offered a truce for us to get along while I’m under his roof and care.
I thought it was a dream but no it was real.
My heart hasn’t calmed since that moment. I could barely sleep, eagerly awaiting morning so I could see him again.
That’s why I woke up earlier than him, showered, dressed quickly, and headed downstairs to surprise him with breakfast.
A “thank you for everything you did last night” breakfast.
“I hope he likes it…” I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to impose, but then I remind myself that everyone deserves sweetness and kindness in their life, and it seems Shaw Banning doesn’t have a whole lot of that.
With nimble fingers, I sift flour into a white mixing bowl, the powder cascading like snowflakes on a chilly Christmas Day. Beside me, the pink iPad Shaw gifted me last night rests against a jar of sugar, its screen showing an online tutorial from a creator called Cookie’s Kitchen, guiding me through the elaborate steps of crepe-making.
I’ve never made crepes myself, but I’ve enjoyed eating them before, and every time, it felt like tasting a little piece of heaven. The delicious treat always made me smile. Every. Single. Time. So as soon as I opened my eyes this warm summer morning, I made it my mission to make Shaw smile today or at least brighten his day just like he brightened mine yesterday.
And food always makes me feel loved and cared for. It makes me happy. He deserves that too.
“Okay, let’s do this.” I clap my hands in excitement and then reach for the neatly folded cow-print apron that I found tucked away in one of the cabinets, appearing as though it hasn’t been used in years. I tie it securely around my waist, the ties looping into a neat bow at the back. “You can do this, Ella. It looks easy enough...” I cheer myself on, and with a confident flick of my wrist, I crack three eggs into the bowl, the shells tapping lightly against the white ceramic surface. The yolks spill forth, golden and rich, blending seamlessly with the flour. As I whisk the ingredients together, a delicious aroma begins to fill the kitchen, the scent of vanilla and butter mingling with the fresh morning air. Outside, birds chirp merrily, their song as cheerful as my mood this morning.
Seriously, this place was a dream come true.
With my free hand, I lift a bright yellow mug with a happy face on it to my lips and inhale deeply, savoring the bittersweet flavor that dances across my tongue. Once I get my daily dose of caffeine, I continue with breakfast.
Once the batter is prepared, I pour a scoop onto the sizzling skillet, the batter spreading out in a perfect circle with a satisfying sizzle. I watch as the edges begin to crisp and brown, the crepe taking shape before my eyes. “Oh, I am actually doing it!” I exclaim in awe.
With a swift motion, I lift the crepe from the skillet, the surface golden and glistening with melted butter, looking delicious. A sense of triumph surges through me as I watch it land perfectly back in the pan after flipping it. “Yes!” I did it.
As I continue to cook and add the finishing touches to the food, the tutorial guiding my every step, I can’t help but think how magical this moment feels. Here I am, in Shaw’s kitchen, learning how to make crepes, feeling happier than I have in a long time after recently feeling lost and stuck.
Before, nothing felt right. This does.
Smiling, I look around the kitchen while the crepes cook on the stove. Then, I gaze out the window at the ranch land, feeling a rush of belonging that makes my smile even wider.
Could this be it? I wonder. Could this be what I’ve been missing? I think to myself as I continue cooking. When the last crepe sizzles to perfection, I can’t resist a smile of satisfaction. Carefully, I move them to a plate, the delicious aroma making my mouth water. I quickly add chocolate syrup to the crepe and a few slices of bananas and strawberries.
“Yum.” I lick my lips while I look down at my creation. “What a beauty.”
And here I thought I wouldn’t be able to make them this pretty.
Out of the blue, Shaw’s words from last night come back to me. He suggested I keep posting on social media as if nothing bad is going on, as if there’s nothing wrong in my world, and that he would protect me so no one and nothing would touch me. My heart skips a beat as I think about how confident he looked when he made his vow.
I believe him. So, with a plate of freshly cooked crepes in hand, I pause to snap a quick picture. The morning sunlight serves as the perfect filter, illuminating the plate. As I post it to my feed, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride. I did it. Yes, it might seem a little silly to celebrate baking something, but I didn’t know what I was doing, and I tried my best, so I feel proud. Now I just need the crepes to taste as good as they look.
I sent the same photo I posted on my feed to my sisters through our family chat. Alongside the photo, I send them a bunch of pink hearts, a chef emoji, and a cloud emoji. Shortly after, replies start pouring in from two of my sisters since one of them never wakes up this early. Ambrose wakes up with the moon.
EvieKenton: Yummy! ????
HavenSKenton: You did good, sissy! It looks delicious!!?????? ? ? ? ? ???
Me: Thank you, guys! It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ??
Ambrose: User automated response. Fuck off. I’m busy.??
EvieKenton: Oh, I’m so telling Mom.
Haven: Evie…
AriannaKenton has been added to the chat.
EvieKenton: Hi, Mommy!!??
Ambrose: User automated response. Fuck off. I’m busy.??
HavenSKenton: ????
EvieKenton: Busteeeeed.
AriannaKenton: Everly, why are you on your phone this early?
EvieKenton: But Mom! Daddy said I could use it whenever to search for my word of the day.
AriannaKenton: Is that what you’re doing now?
EvieKenton: It was…??
AriannaKenton: Say goodbye to your sister and log off.
EvieKenton: FINE!
EvieKenton: See you soon, Lella! Make me one of those sugary burritos when you come home, yes!????? ???? ???? ????
Me: You got it! ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ??
EvieKenton appears offline.
AriannaKenton: Morning my sweet Haven, please come downstairs I need to speak with you.
HavenSKenton: brT, Mom.
HavenSKenton: Miss you sister! Can’t wait for you to come home. Love you!??
Me: Miss you, bubbles. Love you to the moon and back.??????????
HavenSKenton: ????????????
HavenSKenton appears offline.
AriannaKenton: Ella… are you okay? Also, I’m impressed by your cooking skills, baby.
Me: Thank you, Mom. I am more than okay. ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ??
Me: I’ll make you some crepes when I see you again.?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ??
AriannaKenton: I can’t wait. I’ll call you later, okay? Have a sweet day, baby. I love you.
Me: You too, Mom. I love you, more.?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ??
AriannaKentonPar: Impossible.
AriannaKentonPar: And Ambrose Celeste Kenton, next time I enter this chat that crass message better be gone.
AriannaKenton: appears offline.
My smile widens as I close the chat tab. I love my family, but mostly I love how different we are. All of my siblings have traits from both our parents, but they also grew up to be independent thinkers with unique personalities. There’s never a dull moment at the Kenton household. That’s for sure.
As I flip the last crepe onto the waiting plate, my iPad buzzes softly against the countertop. Curiosity piqued, I wipe my hands on the cow-themed apron I’m wearing before tapping on the notification, a smile already tugging at the corners of my lips. My heart warms as I read the message from my Aunt Kadra—a simple yet lovely wish for a good morning. It’s a small gesture she’s done every day since I’ve had a phone, and it fills me with so much joy, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds on a rainy day.
Looking at her, you wouldn’t think my aunt Kadra is a ray of sunshine like Aunt Mila. She isn’t, but there’s a beautiful light that shines from within her, warming everyone she loves and who loves her.
With a happy sigh, I tap out a quick reply, my still-dirty fingers dancing across the screen. It’s moments like these that remind me of how lucky I am to have so many beautiful souls to love and who love me back—a beautiful family. My perfectly imperfect tribe.
When I’m done, I place the iPad back where it was and return to finishing breakfast. As I pour more chocolate on top of the crepes, I hum my favorite pop song, my heart light with the knowledge that things will change between me and my handsome bodyguard. At least that’s how it feels. It feels as if today is the start of something new. Something sweet.
I finish adding my favorite fruits to the plate when an inexplicable feeling courses through me. Feeling watched, I turn slowly and lock eyes with Shaw. He looks almost puzzled, as if unsure of what’s going on.
He probably thought he’d never see me cooking breakfast in a kitchen since he thought I was a spoiled brat.
Despite Shaw’s usual cold stare, I feel warmth prickling my skin. This man is a walking and talking contradiction. How is it that one moment he can make me feel small with one icy stare, and then the next he can make me feel like I’m walking on clouds with that same penetrating gaze?
Still, I smile as I lift his plate in the air and say, “Good morning, grumpy.”
Those whiskey-brown eyes narrow for a brief second before he enters the room, takes a seat at the kitchen island without breaking eye contact. When I think he’s going to ignore me and dismiss the food I prepared, he surprises me by reaching forward and taking the plate from my hands. “Morning, princess.”
Princess.
This time the nickname doesn’t feel like an insult or a joke. This time it feels like more—so much more.
My cheeks flush with warmth, a rush of butterflies dancing in my stomach at the sound of his hard yet sexy voice. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face, feeling a surge of happiness bubble up inside me.
I pretend to roll my eyes, but secretly, I’m happy with the nickname. It reminds me of the happy moments we shared in the past. As those tiny bugs continue dancing in my stomach, everything seems to stop as his gaze meets mine with an intensity that sends my heart into overdrive.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
There goes my heart, pounding like crazy inside my chest.
It’s moments like this—moments that stop time—that make me feel alive, as if I’m walking on air. And even though a small part of me knows it will most likely come to an end, I hold onto the feeling with all my strength, savoring every second spent with this beautiful man.
Shaw
When I wake up this morning, a familiar smell fills the air, waking me. The house smells of vanilla, with bacon sizzling in the pan and freshly brewed coffee.
After I finished taking a shower and got ready for the day, I padded down the hallway, following the mouthwatering scent. I haven’t woken up to the sweet aroma of breakfast in years—not just because I don’t eat breakfast or anything sweet, but because it’s been a while since someone has cared enough about me to prepare a meal. The last time I ate this early in the morning was years ago, back when I worked at the White House and the president demanded my presence.
The tempting smell grows stronger with each step I take, filling my senses and awakening my appetite.
Pushing open the door to the kitchen, I am greeted by a scene I never thought I would witness. The once first daughter of the United States of America and famous heiress stands at the stove, expertly flipping what looks like pancakes on the griddle, with a dusting of flour on the tip of her nose, cheeks, and hair.
I cross the hardwood floor and stop on the other side of the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from the dining area. I can’t help but notice how utterly charming and completely at home she looks right now. Her black curls, usually so meticulously styled, are tousled with flour, making her look adorable.
Why am I noticing these things? Ella is wearing an oversized lavender shirt, and I can’t be sure, but I think she’s braless. Her matching shorts are short, her feet are bare, and her curly hair is in a messy bun with a few loose strands framing her face. It strikes me that I am getting to know the girl, not the celebrity with millions of followers stalking her on social media.
Standing back, I watch as she moves with grace, flipping a thin, lacy pancake with a golden hue on the griddle. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the scent of sizzling bacon and fresh fruits.
Feeling my gaze on her, she looks up and smiles with her entire face, as if she’s genuinely happy to see me. I can’t understand why, since I’ve been a complete asshole since she first got in my truck, yet she treats me with kindness every time. I guess that’s who she is at her core—good, kind, and sweet. Nothing like her parents.
I used to think this girl came from another world, sent to Earth to sweeten Arianna and Sebastian Kenton’s hearts.
Stepping closer, I watch as Ella drizzles the thin pancakes with syrup and Nutella. The bacon sizzles in the pan, sending up little curls of smoke, while the coffee pot gurgles in the background. She lifts a plate in the air. “Good morning, grumpy,” she greets with a warm smile, her blue eyes shining. I stare unabashedly, taking in the delicate details of her face—the adorable chin, the straight line of her nose, and the prettiest eyelashes.
Then my eyes fall to her plump and pink lips. Her smile. That fucking smile.
I rub my chest, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. As a young boy, this was my favorite time of day—sitting down at the table to eat breakfast with Ma. It was a peaceful moment before the hustle and bustle of the day at the ranch began.
I stay silent, just watching her, when I notice her smile falter and her eyes start to lose their shine as she waits for me to grab the plate. Shit. I reach forward and take the plate from her hands, completely ignoring how my breath hitches when she smiles so beautifully. “Morning, princess,” I grumble.
I see Ella glancing at my plate shyly, her eyes reflecting a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Her words come out soft and hesitant, her voice betraying a hint of insecurity. “I—I hope you like it,” she murmurs, almost losing her words in the air. “It’s... it’s my first time making crepes.” Her admission hangs there.
The way she looks at me, as if preparing for criticism or insults—like she’s bracing herself to be hurt—makes something in my chest feel like it’s breaking. Fuck.
Her lovely eyes bore into me, waiting for something I don’t know what. This is why I dislike anything sweet. It’s too damn addictive, and I’m not just talking about food.
I force myself to break eye contact with her. My gaze falls upon the plate of crepes, adorned with a tempting drizzle of syrup and Nutella—a sight that usually makes me grimace. This is too much sugar. I don’t usually eat this shit. Yet, as I see her holding her breath in anticipation, something softens within me. She did all this for me. Don’t be an ungrateful fuck.
With a gentle sigh, I reach for the fork, ready to dig into the food she so sweetly prepared. I’ve never had one of these before. As I take a bite, the flavors wrap around my senses in a sweet and rich dance. Surprisingly, it isn’t as overwhelming as I expected with so much sugar in it. The blend of chocolate and syrup creates a harmonious symphony of flavors on my tongue. Huh. It’s fucking good.
I glance up and meet her eyes, finding vulnerability. It’s then that I realize it isn’t just about the crepes; it’s about doing something nice for me. I’ve never cared about hurting anyone’s feelings before, but now I find myself thinking carefully before I open my mouth and say something that might hurt her. Fuck, I even went out of my comfort zone for this girl.
With another bite of the crepes, I nod, acknowledging the effort she put into the breakfast. “They’re good. Really good.”
Ella claps happily, her eyes brightening and her lips stretching into a huge smile. “Yes! I’m so happy you like them. I was so nervous,” she finishes, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.
She’s blushing. Thud. Thud. Thud. My chest starts to ache. There’s that weird sensation again.
As she smiles and I eat the food she prepares for me, I think about how small moments and sweet gestures can brighten someone’s day. She makes today—a day that has always been a dark cloud over me—sunny. And that fucks with my head. Her way of seeing life and her capacity to forgive are refreshing but also disturbing. This girl might be small, but she’s dangerous.
Silence falls upon us once again as we dig into our breakfast. While I eat, I notice her subtle way of staring and her smile never faltering. She looks at me when she thinks I’m not looking. Even when I fix my eyes on the plate of food, I still feel her curious gaze on me.
I wonder what she thinks when she looks at me. Can she see my broken parts?
I scrub a hand over my face, suddenly annoyed by her silence. I used to prefer it that way, but now I don’t know what I want or how to feel. I clear my throat and hold her gaze. “When you’re done, go get dressed and let’s start the day, yeah?”
“Will you show me what you do here?” she asks, finally breaking her stare, excitement and happiness written all over her expression. She then looks down at something on the counter—her brand new iPad and a small, pink, girly camera next to it. That’s when I realized she’s excited about working.
That’s rare. Most heiresses would complain endlessly about doing manual labor, especially on a ranch, yet this girl looks like she’s about to jump from her seat at the idea of it.
“Yeah…” That’s all I manage to say.
“I can’t wait,” she admits, pinning me with her gaze. “It’s so beautiful here. I know there’s much to learn!”
Learn…
I look at her in silence, drawn to her presence like a moth to a flame. Get a grip, man . “I doubt what you could learn here is something you could apply to your life back in D.C.,” I told her sincerely.
Nothing I do here is interesting. It’s just… work. Honest and hardworking work.
She chuckles lightly, a musical sound that fills the room and warms my chest. “Nonsense, Shaw Bear. I can feel it already. This place will change me.” Then she picks up both plates, drops them in the dishwasher, and turns back to me with her iPad and camera in hand, and of course, the brightest smile on her face.
Fuck me, how beautiful. I’ve never met anyone who smiles as much as this girl, and I don’t think I ever will.
With a not-so-subtle wink, Ella says, “I’ll be quick,” before she skips out of the room, humming a catchy tune.
The pang in my chest grows stronger as I think about what lies ahead while this sweet creature is under my care. Nothing good for my dead and cold heart, I’m sure.
With a deep sigh, I grab one last crepe from the griddle, bite into it, and make my way outside, ready to start the day. But it doesn’t feel like any other day at the ranch. Today feels… different. Today feels… sweet.