Avery's POV

As the weekend sunlight filtered through the curtains, I rose from my bed with a sense of purpose. Today was special – I had promised the kids a culinary adventure. The idea had been brewing in my mind for a while, a way to infuse a bit of joy into their lives as we all navigated the lingering shadows of Maria's absence.

With quiet determination, I tiptoed out of my room, careful not to disturb anyone in their peaceful slumber. The orphanage seemed to hold its breath, a hushed reverence for the day ahead. My steps carried me through the hallways, my heart tethered to the memories that danced along the walls.

It had become a routine, a quiet ritual that I held close to my heart. I found myself standing before Maria's bedroom door, a place that had become a sanctuary of sorts. With a tender touch, I pushed the door open and stepped into the room that still held her essence.

Maria's presence lingered here, in the way the sunlight filtered through the curtains, in the arrangement of the books on the shelf, in the faint scent of her perfume that clung to the air. It was a connection to a mother figure who had left a void in our lives, yet her spirit remained woven into the very fabric of this space.

I moved with a gentle purpose, my fingers lightly dusting the surfaces, preserving the delicate order that Maria had established. There was a comfort in this routine, a way to hold on to her memory and feel her presence even though she was gone. I knew that the kids felt it too – a sense of solace that emanated from this room.

Leaving Maria's room as it was, untouched and unchanged, I stepped into the kitchen, carrying the weight of her memory with me. The countertops were soon adorned with mixing bowls, measuring cups, and Maria's weathered recipe book.

The kids began to trickle into the kitchen, their excitement palpable. Even in the midst of their healing, their spirits lifted at the promise of a shared adventure. Aprons were donned, their faces alive with eager anticipation. Each tie of the apron felt like a small gesture of hope, a way to encase them in a moment of joy.

After giving a simple instruction on the importance of cleanliness and teamwork, we gathered around the kitchen island. The warmth of Maria's memory surrounded us, and I could feel her gentle presence guiding us through this day.

"Today, we're going to make Maria's favourite pancake recipe and bake some of her beloved cookies," I announced, my voice infused with both nostalgia and anticipation.

As we dove into the culinary journey, the kitchen came alive with activity. Mixing bowls clinked, eggs cracked, and laughter bubbled like a symphony of shared moments. The kids stole glances at Maria's photo on the wall, a bittersweet reminder of what we had lost but would never forget.

The kitchen became a canvas of creativity and camaraderie. Flour became a playful prop, a cloud of white that painted us all in its embrace. Giggles turned into laughter as the air itself seemed to shimmer with joy.

I couldn't resist joining in. My hands plunged into the flour, a cloud of white erupting around me. In the midst of it all, I caught Sarah's mischievous eye. She playfully tossed flour my way and started to run away.

I chased her, flour in hand, laughter echoing as we whirled around the kitchen. But just as Sarah was about to escape, a surprise guest entered the scene – Rick. Flour cascaded onto his clothes, and for a moment, he stood there, caught in a flurry of white.

Sarah's laughter filled the air as she joined the other kids, and I couldn't help the mischievous smirk that tugged at my lips. Rick's icy gaze met mine, annoyance simmering beneath the surface. He was clearly unprepared for such a welcome.

My smirk deepened – a playful poke at his usual stoicism. As if on cue, another child attempted to shower me with flour. I sidestepped, and the flour found its way to Rick's shirt again.

Rick closed his eyes momentarily, his lips pursed in a mixture of annoyance and resignation. A barely concealed sigh escaped him as he dusted himself off, a picture of reluctant exasperation.

Amid the joy and flour-filled fun, I couldn't resist capturing the scene. My phone was out in an instant, capturing Rick's bemused irritation juxtaposed against the vibrant chaos of the room. He made a half-hearted attempt to snatch my phone, but I danced out of his reach, a triumphant grin playing on my lips.

"I must say, you have a unique way of welcoming someone to the orphanage," Rick remarked dryly. His cold demeanour remained intact, his piercing gaze fixed on me.

I raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze head-on. "Well, I believe in making a lasting impression," I retorted with a playful glint in my eyes, matching his tone with my own brand of defiance. I knew how to push his buttons, and I took a certain delight in doing so.

Before our banter could escalate, Sophia's inquisitive voice broke through the moment. "Avery, who is this?" 

Her eyes shifted between us, curiosity dancing in their depths.

I took a breath, ready to introduce Rick, "This is Rick. He's—"

"A friend from the bookstore. We met there recently," Rick smoothly cut in, his voice measured and composed

I shot him a sidelong glance, a silent message passing between us. He was weaving a web of half-truths, concealing his true identity beneath a veneer of casual acquaintance. A subtle roll of my eyes conveyed my exasperation, but I held my tongue.

Sophia's eyes brightened with interest, completely oblivious to the unspoken tension. As she turned to Rick, a warm smile played on her lips.

"Oh, how wonderful! It's always nice to see new faces around here. Welcome to our little family."

"Thank you," Rick replied with a reserved nod, a hint of a polite smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Feel free to enjoy your time here. We'll have lunch together. How does that sound?"

Rick's initial instinct was to decline, his lips parting to utter a polite refusal. However, this time it was my turn to intervene.

"That sounds like a great idea. Rick will join us for lunch," I interjected with a knowing smirk, fully aware of the annoyance flickering in his eyes.

As Sophia departed, Rick and I were left alone again. My attention turned to him as I gestured towards the group of kids engrossed in their culinary endeavours.

"Well, since you're here, how about joining us in the kitchen? The kids would love it."

Rick's hesitation was palpable, his discomfort evident in the way he shifted on his feet. But his resolve was quickly challenged as a small figure darted towards him – Sarah. She held onto his hand with an imploring look, her voice sweet as honey.

"Please, Rick, join us! It'll be so much fun."

Rick's resistance wavered under the power of Sarah's innocent persuasion. He glanced at me, silently pleading for a lifeline, but I simply grinned and shrugged, my eyes dancing with amusement.

With a reluctant sigh, Rick relented. He donned the proffered apron, his annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. His interactions with the kids were a blend of awkwardness and an underlying desire not to show his irritation.

The sight was a rare spectacle – Rick, the imposing and formidable operative, now at the mercy of a group of enthusiastic children. Meanwhile, I led my team in making pancakes, guiding the kids through each step with patience and care.

Flour flew and batter spilled, but the laughter remained infectious. Sarah clung to me like a little shadow, her attempts to help often resulting in more mess. Yet, my exasperation was tempered with tenderness, and I embraced the chaos wholeheartedly.

As the pancakes sizzled on the griddle, I found myself engaged in a whirlwind of conversations. The kids chatted animatedly about everything and nothing, their youthful exuberance filling the room with a vibrant energy.

Caught up in the moment, I felt Rick's gaze on me. His intense scrutiny was palpable, and my heart skipped a beat. For a fleeting second, our eyes locked, sending a flutter of excitement through me, like a rush of butterflies taking flight in my stomach.

But the task at hand demanded attention, and Rick refocused his efforts on helping the kids with the cookie batter. His once rigid posture seemed to relax slightly, and a hint of genuine amusement tugged at his lips as he interacted with the kids.

As the delightful aroma of freshly baked cookies and pancakes filled the air, our culinary adventure culminated in a breakfast feast. Laughter and chatter reverberated throughout the room as the kids eagerly indulged in their delicious creations. I couldn't help but notice that Rick's gaze occasionally wandered in my direction, catching my eye in fleeting moments that sent a tingle of awareness down my spine.

With appetites sated and smiles adorning their faces, the kids began to disperse, leaving behind a trail of contentment. I exchanged knowing glances with some of the caretakers, silently acknowledging the success of our morning endeavour. As they embarked on their various activities, I turned my attention to the aftermath of our cooking escapade.

A few caretakers joined me in the kitchen, and together we tackled the joyful chaos that came with baking alongside exuberant children. Flour was wiped, countertops were cleaned, and utensils were washed with shared efficiency.

Amidst the controlled commotion, I couldn't help but notice Rick's struggle as he attempted to engage with the kids. His stoic demeanour clashed with their vibrant energy, resulting in a blend of awkwardness and undeniable charm.

Once the kitchen was restored to its pristine state, I leaned against the counter, wiping my hands on a dishcloth. I observed Rick from a distance as he navigated the sea of youthful enthusiasm, a bemused expression occasionally gracing his features. He had an uncanny ability to draw their attention, even if it was in a way he didn't entirely anticipate.

Just as I was about to approach and offer assistance, Rick's penetrating gaze shifted to me. In an instant, his steps redirected, cutting through the room with an air of purpose. Before I could react, he was at my side, his grip firm as he took hold of my arm and dragged me out of the orphanage to the backyard.

The abruptness of his action caught me off guard, and before I knew it, he had come to a sudden stop and turned around to face me. My momentum propelled me forward, and I collided against his unyielding chest.

A rush of unexpected sensations coursed through me – the heat of his body, the assertive strength of his hold, and the intensity of his gaze that seemed to penetrate the depths of my soul. For a brief, suspended moment, time itself seemed to pause, leaving only the two of us in this charged encounter.

I collected my wits, realizing our proximity was uncomfortably intimate. I took a subtle step back, creating a sliver of space between us.

"Rick, what's going on? Why did you drag me out here like this?" I questioned, a mixture of confusion and irritation tingeing my tone.

His response was abrupt, his voice laced with an icy edge. "How can you enjoy yourself like this, Avery? Maria's barely cold in her grave, and you're frolicking around with these kids. You should be cooperating with me to solve her murder, not playing house."

His words landed like a cold, harsh slap, shocking me with their callousness. Anger flared within me, battling with the ache of grief that still lingered.

"How dare you? Do you think I'm not affected by Maria's death?" I retorted, my voice trembling with a mixture of emotions.

"These kids need a sense of normalcy. They need to see that life goes on even in the face of tragedy. I'm not playing house; I'm giving them a chance to smile, to feel loved."

"Some of these kids are too young to comprehend the reality of Maria's death," I continued, my voice gaining strength with each word.

"I can't burden them with the details of her brutal murder. I can't snatch away their innocence. Maria dedicated her life to them, and now it's my responsibility to carry that forward. So don't you dare stand there and judge me for trying to bring a little light into their lives."

Rick's response was a heavy sigh, his gaze locked onto mine, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and something more complex. Instead of an apology, his focus shifted, and he delved into another topic.

"Fine, let's talk about Maria then. You mentioned her cheating boyfriend and the miscarriage. Did she ever tell you the name of her boyfriend?"

A chuckle of disbelief escaped me, mingling with the lingering anger. "You really don't know how to apologize, do you?"

I quipped, my tone laced with sarcasm and incredulity. As Rick remained unapologetic, I shook my head in exasperation.

Rick's reply was curt, his voice dripping with the same coldness that had become his trademark.

"I don't apologize."

Rolling my eyes, I started to turn away, intent on leaving the confrontation behind. Before I could take a step, his grip tightened around my hand, halting me. I was abruptly spun around to face him, our bodies close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.

"Never, ever roll your eyes at me," he declared, his voice a low, intimidating rumble.

The words, though stern, carried a raw undercurrent that sent a shiver down my spine. Our eyes locked in a charged silence, the tension between us palpable, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Are they arguing? OMG yeah... 

Big thanks to lonleyloner2007 for the insightful book review! I truly appreciate your feedback and will keep it in mind. Fellow Wattpad writers, if you're looking for a thoughtful review, be sure to check out her profile!

COMMENT😍😍

VOTE 😍😍