Andrew drove back to the apartment.
Isabella was sitting at the table in the dining room, resting her chin on her hands, waiting for him. The table, however, was bare.
“Long wait?” He took off his suit and walked over, looking at her with gentle eyes.
“Andrew, I’m hungry,” she said.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked.
“There are plenty of ingredients in the fridge. You cook, and I’ll eat,” she ordered him confidently.
He faintly chuckled, realizing that accompanying her for dinner meant he would have to cook for her.
“Wait a moment, it’ll be ready soon,” he said, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he walked into the kitchen.
Due to limited ingredients and time, Andrew simply prepared two servings of spaghetti. Nonetheless, they looked and tasted good.
Isabella took the fork and knife, indulging in the pasta. After relishing the taste, she smiled, her eyes and eyebrows arched, resembling an adorable fox.
“How does it taste?” he asked.
“It’s quite delicious. You should try it…” she replied.
Before she could finish, he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
She hesitated for a moment, allowing him to kiss her before blushing and pushing him away.
He returned to his seat, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Hmm, tastes good.”
Her face reddened further, feeling that his “tastes good” held a deeper meaning.
His elegant hand picked up the chopsticks on the table, casually asking as he served her, “Weren’t you on set? Why did you suddenly come back?”
“Oh, I had a dispute with the male lead of the show. He is Oliver’s boyfriend. He bullied her and is still lying in the hospital. If I had known that I could have a holiday like this, I should have made him unable to take care of himself.” She spoke with a mouthful of food, mumbling.
His handsome face always remained calm and gentle. He continued serving her while saying, “Eat, or it’ll get cold.”
Isabella obediently ate her food but felt an inexplicable sourness in her nose.
After finishing their meal, just as Andrew finished tidying up the dishes, Amelia returned with Asher.
Upon seeing his mom, Asher immediately extended his chubby little arms and rushed into Isabella’s embrace.
Isabella hugged her son tightly, planting kisses all over him.
“Kiss your eyes, nose, mouth, ears, hair…” Asher’s chubby little body pressed Isabella onto the couch, showering her with kisses and leaving her face covered in saliva.
Andrew walked out of the kitchen, furrowing his brows as he looked at the chubby little figure on top of Isabella. He felt an urge to pick him up and throw him out.
“Asher, it’s time for your nap,” Andrew said sternly. Asher, nearly three years old, was on the verge of the ‘wolfing’ phase, particularly clingy to his mother. Andrew was concerned that Asher displaying wolf-like behaviors in front of Isabella might scare her.
Poor Asher, after spending a little while with his mom, was carried back to the room by Amelia.
Later, Andrew and Isabella returned to the bedroom.
Isabella had rushed out in the morning and hadn’t taken a shower. Now that she was back home, she wanted to relax and take a milk bath.
After her bath, she changed into comfortable loungewear, sat in front of the vanity, and started blow-drying her hair.
As the soft strands of hair swayed with the warm breeze from the blow dryer, a few strands obstructed her view, making her feel uncomfortable. She squinted and continued blow-drying her hair, unaware that a tall figure was approaching her in the mirror.
It wasn’t until the blow dryer was taken from her hand that Isabella looked up in surprise, colliding unexpectedly into Andrew’s calm blue eyes.
“Andrew,” she called his name.
“Yeah.” Andrew responded, his voice deep and husky. After that, he didn’t speak but gently took the blow dryer and continued drying her hair.
He was contemplating; it was time to find an opportunity to confess everything to her.
Isabella didn’t refuse; since he enjoyed serving her so much, she gladly enjoyed it too.
With one hand holding the blow dryer and the other hand playing with her hair, his slender fingers weaved through her soft locks. His slightly cool fingertips inevitably occasionally brushed against her skin, either at the sensitive spot of her neck or earlobe.
She wasn’t sure if it was intentional or unintentional on his part, but whenever his fingers casually grazed the sensitive spots of her neck or ear, she couldn’t help but shiver slightly.
She forced herself not to push him away. After all, Andrew was blow-drying her hair and was acting quite serious. If she protested now, wouldn’t it show her guilt?
She gritted her teeth and endured it; after all, blow-drying her hair would take at most eight to ten minutes.
However, before her hair could dry, he made his move.
He tossed the blow dryer onto the vanity, leaving it on, its hum echoing in the room.
And Isabella found herself lifted from the chair, half-dragged into his chest.
His firm and warm chest pressed against her back, his breath falling between her neck, its heat scorching.
“Andrew, let go.” Isabella instinctively struggled a few times and the next moment, she was pulled onto the nearby couch by Andrew.
His tall and heavy frame trapped her in a corner, his handsome face gradually enlarging in front of her, lips just under an inch away.
“Weren’t you deliberately coming back to accompany me, hmm?”
Isabella’s hands pressed against his chest, stopping his further actions. “I came back to be with you, not to be with you in bed, Andrew. Don’t confuse the concepts.”
Andrew tilted his head slightly, his sexy lips lightly touching her ear, his magnetic voice carrying a hint of huskiness, “For a man, the best companionship is in bed.”
“Shameless,” she gritted her teeth, wishing she could just bite him to death.
And then, she did pounce, sinking her teeth into his shoulder.
His muscles were even and firm, a decent texture. She nearly took it as if she were famished, tasting the slightly metallic sweetness of blood through the thin fabric of his shirt.