Chapter 290 Between Kitchen and Heart
Chapter 290 Between Kitchen and Heart
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Anneliese kept her head down as she walked behind him, her eyes catching their hands intertwined. Her heart raced.
They stepped into the elevator. When she saw Jonathan press the button for the penthouse, she finally gathered herself and said, “You’ve been away for so many days, there probably isn’t any fresh food at home. I’ll go cook at my place first. You can go back to yours to wash up and get ready, then come down. Does that work?”
A faint, almost teasing smile tugged at Jonathan’s lips.
“Your place? My place?”
Anneliese blinked. Technically, that was right, but somehow it felt off.
The man, however, seemed to have spoken casually. Before she could reply, he nodded.
“Whatever
you
decide.”
She pressed the button for her floor, and the elevator started moving slowly upward.
The car fell quiet, broken only by Meatloaf’s excited little huffs at her feet.
Anneliese could feel the sweat in their clasped hands, though she couldn’t tell whose it was.
She suddenly remembered the kiss he had planted on her that day when he left. Her palms felt warmer, and even her collar felt hot. She fidgeted with her turtleneck, tugging at it nervously.
“I can make you a light pasta,” she offered, her voice a little tense.
He lowered his gaze. “That sounds good.”
He didn’t look away, his eyes scanning her.
Anneliese, already on edge, felt even more exposed under his gaze, though thankfully, he softened it slightly.
“How’s Grandma feeling? Do you need to go to the hospital tonight?”
“Dr. Chevalier has been very thorough. Grandma’s recovering really well. I even hired a professional caregiver, so I won’t need to go tonight.”
Anneliese had wanted to thank him properly, but the elevator had already reached her floor.
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Chapter 290 Between Kitchen and Heart
She took Meatloaf from Jonathan’s hands. “I’ll be heading back, then.”
Meatloaf, however, didn’t move with her, tugging against the leash.
Anneliese froze.
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“Let her come upstairs with me. I’ll bring her down in a bit,” Jonathan said with a smile.
Reluctantly, she handed the leash back and shot Meatloaf a sharp glare before stepping out of the elevator.
The doors closed, and the elevator continued its ascent.
Jonathan looked down at Meatloaf, who tilted her head back, tongue lolling, letting out a happy little pant.
The man rapped lightly on her head.
“Who gave you permission to make my wife mad?”
A soft whine.
Meatloaf’s eyes glistened, and she squatted at Jonathan’s feet, looking pitiful.
Meanwhile, Anneliese quickly made a simple pasta with tomatoes and eggs. Just as it was nearly done, the doorbell rang.
She hurried to open it and, as expected, Jonathan was standing there with Meatloaf.
He’d taken a shower and changed into a loose, light–gray loungewear set.
The V–neck pullover and wide–leg pants draped over his long legs with effortless style, making even loungewear look like it belonged on a runway.
His hair was still damp, and the V–neck revealed a slice of his strong neck and collarbone, the skin flushed faintly from the steam.
He didn’t look like he had come over for dinner. More like he’d shown up in the middle of the night to keep her company.
Anneliese’s eyes darted away. She quickly stepped aside to let him in.
“I’ll get you some slippers.”
She opened the shoe cabinet and set down the flashy, bright–red men’s slippers they had
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Chapter 290 Between Kitchen and Heart
picked out together that day.
Jonathan stepped inside, just about to change his shoes, when Anneliese remembered something and called after him.
“The pasta will be ready soon. The door code is 117625–either memorize it or add fingerprint.”
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Before he could reply, she darted off toward the kitchen, disappearing from sight.
Jonathan lingered at the doorway, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
From trying to claim a pair of slippers here to boldly stepping inside her home, things had gone even more smoothly than he’d expected.
His wife always found ways to surprise him—and stirred bolder desires and higher expectations in him.
By the time Anneliese brought the pasta to the table, Jonathan had already registered his fingerprint.
He closed the door and walked over to the table. Seeing only one serving, he looked at her.
“I’m not hungry at all, so I won’t join you,” Anneliese quickly said.
Jonathan didn’t comment further. He pulled out a chair and sat down.
He twirled some pasta, blew on it, and took a bite. Anneliese watched anxiously for his
reaction.
The dish was simple, and she worried he might not like it or think she was just halfheartedly cooking for him.
But he lifted his eyes, genuinely impressed. “It’s really good.”
After that, he said nothing more and dug in, clearly very hungry.
Even as he ate quickly, his movements were composed–no slurping or rude noises, just quiet, disciplined manners.
Anneliese poured him a glass of water and set it nearby.
“Take it slow. There’s more in the kitchen if you need it. I’m going to give Meatloaf a bath now.”
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