My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Armand handed a plate of rinsed blueberries to Genevieve and smacked her buttocks to send her out to the living room to amuse herself.

Genevieve clutched her butt and glared at him. “Brute!”

“What did you say?” Armand narrowed his eyes and leaned over as if to kiss her.

Genevieve grabbed her blueberries and ran.

After an arduous preparatory stage, Armand made over a hundred meatballs. He cooked some, placed the rest into a container, and stored them in the freezer.

If Genevieve gets hungry in my absence, Rosa can just take some out to cook.

Though meatballs of this style were small and had little meat, the outer layer would become delightfully crisp once cooked. The stock was made of chicken broth Armand had prepared the night before, which made the meatballs taste exceptionally sweet and delicious.

Possibly due to an increased appetite caused by her period, Genevieve only felt full after consuming two whole bowls of meatballs and a butter biscuit.

Genevieve stroked her bloated belly guiltily after her meal. “Butter biscuits are fattening. I shouldn't have eaten that.”

Armand laughed. “What's done is done. I'll exercise with you once your period passes.”

Unable to stop himself, he touched Genevieve's belly. Her skin was soft and delicate, and her waist was slim as always. He could grab it with one hand.

Armand's gaze darkened as his throat turned dry.

Genevieve smacked his hand aside and hurriedly pulled her shirt down. “Did you purposely improve your culinary skills to seduce me, Mr. Faulkner? I remember you told me you liked me long ago and even found a substitute to kill time.”

“That's right.” Armand tore open a bottle of yogurt for her to ease her digestion. “I know you love food, so I practiced my culinary skills hard. Cooking is not the only thing I'm good at...”

Genevieve accepted the bottle of yogurt. Her cheeks flushed a bright red when she heard the latter part of his speech. “Hold it!”

Armand rumbled in laughter as he draped his arm across the back of the couch. “I was going to say that aside from cooking, I'm good at giving massages. I can also fly a helicopter, ride a horse, and golf. I can keep you company if you want to try any of those activities.”

“Were you thinking about something else?” he went on with raised eyebrows. “What were you thinking of?”

This scoundrel is toying with me!

Genevieve was so angry that she choked. “I was thinking about nothing!” she said coldly with a steely expression.

Armand noticed that she took a big gulp and that some of the yogurt flowed from the corner of her lips. She lapped it up innocently, though it appeared otherwise from his perspective.

Armand wanted nothing more than to press her against the couch, kiss her passionately, and leave his mark on her body.

He took a deep breath and suppressed the animalistic urge before leaning closer to Genevieve. “You don't have to call me Mr. Faulkner when we're alone. It feels too formal.”

“Are we very close?” Genevieve raised her eyebrow at him.