Her reaction earlier suggested she'd known all along, though Rosalind had no idea when she might have found out.
She glanced at the dishes on the table but still had little appetite. Turning to Alaric, she tugged at his sleeve. "Alaric, the baby wants to eat noodles made with your own hands."
Alaric froze for a moment. 'When have I ever made noodles for her?'
He met her gaze, and her vibrant eyes seemed to steal his very soul.
'I've never done it before, but what's stopping me from doing it now?'
With that, he rolled up his sleeves and looked at Dexter Davenport. "Dad, you all go ahead and eat. I'm going to make her some noodles."
Dexter Davenport nodded happily and teased, "Ah, to be a young couple. I'm an old man now, and I've never once eaten noodles made by my own son."
Rosalind covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Even though Dexter Davenport was ill, his personality hadn't changed one bit.
