My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Chapter 127 Why Are You Still Here

a satisfied look on his face. “Why are you still here?” asked Genevieve subconsciously. Armand’s gaze swept across her and paused on the collar of her sleeping robe. “Your house is mine, so why can’t I be here?” Genevieve was at a loss for words. She recalled that the house was bought using his card, and she indeed could not make him leave. Genevieve licked her dry lips and walked past him. She went into the pantry and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Armand did not leave and leaned on the door, saying, “Make me lunch after you go back to the room to change your clothes.” “I don’t know how!” Genevieve drank the orange juice with her back facing him and said in annoyance, “Order some food delivery. The receptionist will send it to the door.” Her legs were still sore, and she did not feel like cooking for him. “I saw that your cooking looked good the other time at the Faulkner residence.” Armand stepped in and stood behind her. He bent down and said, “I won’t complain even if it’s not good. What do you say?” Genevieve’s hand trembled. The glass in her hands almost smashed onto the counter when she felt his breath on the back of her neck and heard the tone of his voice. Seeing that, Armand chuckled and teased, “I haven’t even touched you, and you’re already trembling?” Genevieve could hear the smirk in his tone, and the tips of her ears flushed. She turned around and pushed him away with all her strength. “I’ll go and make lunch, all right? Hurry and leave once you’re done eating.” Armand laughed when he saw her leaving angrily and stomping on the ground. He found that she had a temper, and teasing her was fun. Why didn’t I notice this before? Genevieve went back to the room and changed into long-sleeved pajamas. She stood in front of the fridge and looked at the variety of ingredient inside it while biting her fingers. Genevieve had only learned how to make stir-fried beef and salmon from Maria. Moreover, she had made those two dishes more than ten times, asking Maria and the rest to test the taste. However, the fridge did not have the main ingredients she needed to make those two dishes, and she did not know how to make anything else. After standing there for a while, Genevieve instinctively picked a few ingredients. I’m not the one who wants to cook. Armand is the one who wants me to. When it was lunchtime, Armand had already settled some stuff and conducted a virtual meeting. He put his phone down and went to the tiny dining area when the food was ready. His gaze swept across the table, and the veins on his forehead throbbed when he saw the odd-looking dishes. “You’re the one who said that you won’t mind.” Genevieve