Chapter 77 A Perfectly Standard Figure
Summer’s face grew slightly warm.
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The lingering nervousness from the drive over swelled in an instant, amplifying the unease deep within her
heart.
A crisp autumn breeze howled past, carrying a trace of chill. The hem of Summer’s light gray dress fluttered, casting dappled shadows beneath the dim evening glow.
She hadn’t even managed to speak when, suddenly, Pudding came charging from a distance, shattering the awkward silence.
All she saw was a blur of soft, white fur racing toward her at full sprint, like a speeding snowball.
Her body reacted instinctively. She reached out to catch it.
At that moment, Fraser’s unhurried, lazy voice commanded, “Pudding, stop.”
Just like that, the anticipated impact never came.
Pudding skidded to an abrupt halt, mere inches from Summer.
His round, glossy eyes shimmered with unshed tears, gazing up at her pitifully.
Summer’s heart softened. She crouched down, gently stroking Pudding’s plush fur. “Pudding, good boy. It’s alright.”
Fraser strolled forward, his gait leisurely, his voice laced with amusement. “With your weight, you’d flatten her. You seriously don’t know your own size?”
Pudding barked indignantly.
Summer shot Fraser a disapproving look. “Don’t be mean to him.”
“Me? Mean?” Fraser arched a brow, regarding her with mild amusement. “Are you even aware of your own weight?”
Summer huffed. “I have a perfectly standard figure.”
This man is always saying I’m too thin. Doesn’t he know that at five–foot–five and 95 pounds, I have the ideal figure?
Fraser’s gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate. His deep, husky voice lowered near her ear, laced with an ambiguous edge. “Well, very standard.”
At his words, a faint blush crept up Summer’s ears.
Fraser reached out and, in a natural, intimate motion, took her hand.
His palm was broad and warm, effortlessly enveloping her slender fingers.
Summer stiffened slightly. She still wasn’t used to this.
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On instinct, she tried to pull away, unwilling to let him notice.
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Fraser didn’t allow it. At first, his hand merely wrapped around hers, but then his fingers slid between hers. interlocking them firmly.
Summer had never held hands like this before.
It felt intimate, deeply, unmistakably so. The sheer closeness sent her pulse skittering.
Fraser lowered his gaze, lips curling ever so slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Do you feel hot?”
Summer’s clear eyes flicked up, shooting him a glare.
This man was doing it on purpose.
She refused to give him the satisfaction. “I’m just hungry.”
Fraser let out a low chuckle, his fingers tightening around hers as he led her inside.
Beneath the moonlit sky, the shadows of a man, a woman, and a dog stretched long and languid against the pavement, forming an unexpectedly harmonious picture.
Passing servants caught sight of them and instinctively widened their eyes before quickly lowering their heads.
“This is the first time I’ve seen Mr. Graham holding a woman’s hand. Isn’t she the same lady from last time?”
“I told you, she’s not ordinary. Even Pudding, who never gets close to anyone, sticks to her like she’s his owner.”
“Say no more. Looks like the Graham family is about to welcome a new lady.”
Inside the villa’s dining room, a sleek, modern dining table is elegantly set with a lavish spread–barbecue ribs, fish and chips, black pepper crab, and beef stew.
The rich aroma filled the air, tantalizing and mouthwatering.
Summer’s eyes widened slightly, her stomach stirring in anticipation. “You made all this?”
“Didn’t know what you liked, so I just threw a few things together.” Fraser’s lips curled into a faint smile, his voice laced with quiet amusement. “But I made plenty of ribs this time, so you won’t have to fight Pudding for them.”
“I never fought Pudding for food!”
She had simply taken a few extra pieces last time. It was hardly a crime.
Fraser’s eyes glimmered with laughter. “Alright, my mistake.”
With effortless grace, he pulled out a chair for her.
Then as if it were second nature, he nicked un a plate and carefully selected several nerfectly glazed ribs
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Pudding’s tail wagged excitedly as he trotted over, obediently settling beside them before digging in with evident delight.
Summer quietly ate her meal.
Her gaze drifted, landing on Fraser’s hands as he reached for a crab–cracking tool. His long, well–defined fingers moved with practiced ease, meticulously extracting the delicate crab meat.
