Chapter 449: The Handyman

“Good morning, Mailah,” Grayson said smoothly, his dark voice as steady and calm as ever. He did not look bothered by the strawberry apron in the slightest.

Mailah looked at the bright yellow fabric tied around his waist, then at the stainless steel whisk in his broad hand. “Grayson… why are you wearing Chloe’s apron?”

Grayson looked down at the embroidered strawberries with complete gravity. “This garment prevents flour dust from touching my shirt. Chloe left it on the chair. It is functional, if visually ridiculous.”

Chloe snorted loudly into her coffee mug, leaning her head against the marble counter as her shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s not just functional, Mailah. Look at the counter! He’s using a digital scale and a laser temperature gun for pancake batter.”

“It is simple precision,” Grayson corrected calmly, setting the whisk down on a clean paper towel. He stepped away from the stove, his eyes locking onto Mailah. The cold, analytical look in his blue eyes vanished instantly, replaced by that deep, velvety warmth reserved only for her.

“You slept well?” he asked softly, taking two steps across the stone tile floor to reach her.

“I did,” Mailah said, smiling up at him.

He didn’t care that Chloe was sitting right there watching them. Grayson reached out, taking Mailah’s hands into his large, incredibly warm ones. He lifted her hands to his lips, pressing a slow, warm kiss against her knuckles before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Your coffee is on the island,” Grayson murmured, his voice low and raspy. “It has been cooling for exactly four minutes. It should be at your preferred temperature now.”

“You cook for me every morning, Grayson,” Mailah said, stepping closer into his space and resting her palms against his broad chest. “You don’t need to turn pancake batter into a science project.”

“I do not turn it into a project,” Grayson said softly, his thumb lightly brushing across her cheek. “I simply refuse to serve you anything less than perfect. You deserve perfection every day.”

“Gross! Too sweet! My teeth are falling out!” Chloe called from the kitchen island, holding her hands over her ears. “Can you two pause the romantic movie dialogue for five minutes so I can eat a pancake?”

Grayson didn’t take his eyes off Mailah. “Chloe, if you speak again, I will give your pancakes to the birds on the lawn.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Chloe gasped.

“I have done far worse for far less,” Grayson noted coolly.

Mailah laughed softly, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to Grayson’s sharp jawline before stepping toward the kitchen island. “Ignore him, Chloe. He’s just playing tough.”

“I am not playing,” Grayson muttered, turning back to the stove. He scooped a neat circle of batter into the hot iron pan with smooth, practiced movement. Even wearing a bright yellow apron with tiny strawberries, he looked like an ancient king standing in his castle.

By mid-morning, the autumn sun was shining brightly through the high glass windows of the estate.

Mailah sat in the sunny library, looking through a catalog of indoor garden displays. Her small lavender plants and indoor greens were growing fast, and the small wooden plant stand near the sunroom window was getting far too full.

Grayson walked into the library without making a single sound. He had taken off the apron, rolled his shirt sleeves back down to his wrists, and restored his usual immaculate appearance. He set a fresh cup of warm tea on the small table next to Mailah, then rested his broad hand on the back of her chair, leaning down so his cheek was close to hers.

“What are you studying, my love?” he asked softly, his warm breath brushing against her neck.

“I need a new plant shelf for the sunroom,” Mailah said, leaning her head back against his chest. “Something bigger. I saw a nice wooden one at the home store in the village. We can go buy the box and build it today.”

Grayson paused, his eyebrows pulling together. “Build it? From a box of loose pieces?”

“Yes,” Mailah said, smiling up at his serious face. “It’s simple. You just screw the pieces together.”

Chloe walked past the open library doors holding a bowl of grapes, stopping dead in her tracks when she heard Mailah.

“Did I hear that right?” Chloe asked, her eyes lighting up with delight. “Mailah wants you to assemble flat-pack furniture?”

Grayson turned his head slowly toward his cousin. “I have built stone fortresses that stood for five hundred years, Chloe. Putting wooden boards together will not be a problem.”

“Oh, this is going to be amazing,” Chloe laughed, popping a grape into her mouth. “An ancient shadow prince trying to read tiny paper instructions with a little metal wrench. I am definitely coming with you.”

“No one invited you,” Grayson said dryly.

“I don’t care! I need to see this,” Chloe declared happily. “I haven’t seen you look confused since humans invented the steam engine.”

An hour later, Grayson’s matte-black sedan pulled into the parking lot of the large home store on the edge of the village.

The store was busy with weekend shoppers loading wooden boards, garden pots, and heavy boxes into their cars. Grayson parked near the front, stepped out, and buttoned his heavy dark coat. He walked with a smooth, effortless stride, looking entirely out of place among the regular shoppers in their casual hoodies and rain boots.

Mailah walked beside him, her arm tucked securely through his. Chloe trotted slightly behind them, looking around the bright aisles with a cheerful grin.

“Where are the shelves?” Grayson asked, sweeping his dark blue eyes across the massive store like a hawk searching a field.

“Aisle fourteen,” Mailah said, pointing toward the back.

They walked down the wide concrete aisles. People naturally moved out of Grayson’s way, drawn by his tall frame and the quiet, heavy air of authority he carried.

When they reached aisle fourteen, Mailah stopped in front of a display showing a tall, light-oak shelf with four wide levels. “Look, Grayson! This one is perfect. It’s simple and clean.”

Grayson stepped closer, examining the display shelf. He reached out with two long fingers, lightly shaking the top wooden frame.

“The joint connections are cheap,” Grayson observed in a serious, low voice. “They are using soft pine wood and thin metal screws. If you place four heavy ceramic pots on the top level, it will lean three degrees to the left within six months.”

Chloe groaned loudly, leaning her head against a stack of plastic storage bins. “Grayson, it’s an eighty-dollar plant shelf! Not a support beam for a cathedral!”

“It will carry Mailah’s plants,” Grayson replied coolly. “It must be stable.”

“Excuse me, do you folks need some help?” a store worker asked, walking up to them. He was a young man wearing a bright red apron, holding a digital scanner.

The young worker took one look at Grayson’s sharp coat, his pale, unbelievably handsome face, and the cold intensity in his eyes, and instantly slowed his steps.

Grayson turned his head slowly toward the worker. “We are choosing a shelf.”

“R-Right!” the worker stammered, pulling nervously at his collar. “That one is very popular! The flat boxes are right down here on the bottom rack. They weigh about fifty pounds each.”

Grayson didn’t even blink. He reached down into the narrow display rack with one hand, grabbed the heavy cardboard box, and pulled it out as effortlessly as if it were a box of cereal. He held the fifty-pound box under one arm without dropping his shoulder an inch.

The store worker’s mouth fell open. “U-Uh… do you need a heavy-duty cart for that, sir?”

“No,” Grayson said flatly. “I have arms.”

Mailah hid a smile behind her hand, while Chloe burst into a quiet fit of giggles behind a display of lawnmowers.

“We will take this one,” Grayson announced, turning back to Mailah. His cold expression melted into that soft, attentive look the second his eyes met hers. “Is there anything else you require, my love?”

“Just a small box of extra wooden pegs, just in case,” Mailah said warmly, touching his forearm.

“I have real tools at the house,” Grayson murmured, his voice dropping into a raspy, low hum near her ear. “Proper steel tools. Not flimsy pieces of soft metal.”

“Okay, Lord Handyman,” Chloe called out, walking past them toward the checkout registers. “Let’s go pay before you decide to buy the whole building and rebuild the roof.”

Back at the estate, the afternoon sun flooded the glass sunroom with bright, warm light.

The large cardboard box was laid flat on the stone floor. Grayson had removed his dark coat and rolled up his black sweater sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms. He sat cross-legged on the floor, staring down at the multi-page paper instruction booklet with an expression of intense seriousness.

Mailah sat on the plush bench nearby, holding two small glasses of lemonade, while Chloe leaned against the doorway, holding her phone.

“Step one,” Grayson read aloud, his deep voice making the simple words sound like an ancient decree. “Attach Side Panel A to Base Board B using four wooden pegs and four metal bolts.”

He reached into the small plastic bag of parts, picking up a tiny wooden peg between his long fingers. He looked at it with deep suspicion.

“This peg is three millimeters too short,” Grayson declared flatly.

“It is not too short, Grayson,” Mailah said with a sweet smile, setting the lemonade glasses on the table and kneeling beside him on the floor. “It’s supposed to be like that so the glue fits inside the hole.”

Grayson looked at Mailah, his dark blue eyes softening instantly as she leaned close to him. “You know about these things?”

“I built my college furniture by myself,” Mailah said proudly. “Here, hand me Panel A.”

Grayson handed her the board, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he shifted closer, placing one broad, warm hand on the back of her waist while she aligned the wooden pegs. His body heat radiated straight through her cardigan, making her skin feel wonderfully cozy in the cool room.

“You should not have built things alone,” Grayson murmured low near her ear, his breath tickling the skin beneath her hair. “You should have had someone to do it for you.”

“I didn’t know you back then, Grayson,” Mailah teased softly, turning her head to smile at him.

Grayson’s gaze dropped to her lips, his blue eyes darkening with that deep, swoon-worthy heat that always made her heart skip a beat. “A terrible mistake on the universe’s part,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “I wasted centuries waiting, while you were building cheap shelves alone.”

“Ahem!” Chloe cleared her throat loudly from the doorway. “Excuse me! Are you building furniture or filming a romantic drama? There are wooden boards everywhere!”

Grayson didn’t break eye contact with Mailah for three full seconds before turning his head toward his cousin with cool annoyance. “Chloe, do you have any actual purpose in this room?”

“I am here to ensure you don’t use your ancient strength to break the wood,” Chloe said, crossing her arms with a grin. “And to watch you struggle with that tiny metal wrench.”

“I do not struggle,” Grayson stated calmly.

He took the small metal wrench from the floor, lined it up with the first steel bolt, and turned it with effortless, smooth power. The screw went flush into the oak wood in two seconds flat.

He turned the second one. Then the third. He moved with fast, mechanical precision, assembling the wooden panels with the exactness of a master craftsman.