in the kitchen, cooking; open reception
Emma wasn't the first person he thought would try and sneak their way in here. Ruby, then maybe James, but she was the first person he'd hope would. Not that he minded the others, her company was just more easily received, for a multitude of reasons.
His lips tugged into a smile, eyes and hands still focused on the chicken. He'd look away when he could. Either company or help Jefferson didn't really need but that didn't mean he was going to shoo her out of the kitchen.
"I'll take whichever you'd like to give. I'm not feeling particularly picky at the moment." Because he did say that he'd handle the cooking. It was really no trouble, and he didn't mind it in the least. Nor did he mind help. "So long as you promise to stay away from the vegetables?"