"No wonder! This restaurant is pretty awesome," Xyla Quest declared.

"I invited him to come," Stanley Batton told her.

"Oh, impressive! I like his food."

He then took a bite of a piece of medium-rare beef.

"Do you?" he asked, lowering his gaze to cut a piece of beef before feeding it to her.

"Yeah, I do," she nodded with a smile, chewing in contentment.

"That's settled, then. I'll hire the chef to work at our house from now on," he decided.

"Let's not," she said hastily. "You know I'm not used to having too many strangers in the house."

"In that case, forget it. I'll learn a few things from this chef and do the cooking from now on."

"Okay, but I think my husband is better than any Michelin star chef," she teased.

She wasn't lying.

Stanley's cooking skills were indeed on par with Michelin star chefs.

He had improved by leaps and bounds after lots of practical cooking experience.

grinning at her

man who didn't like to be praised by his

she insisted. "You're the best. You don't need

my culinary skills. How else will I make you

when she heard the dreaded

fed her another piece of beef while wearing an

displaying his

them felt envious when he saw

knew Stanley adored his

he

the extent of

didn't act

of his

are we going tomorrow?" Xyla asked softly with her chin resting

a gentle temperament, and it became even more apparent

a proverb that said a good husband would create an

and

reached for her

proceeding

cut it into bite-sized

head out into the ocean in

noon. Then, we'll go surfing in the afternoon. We'll have dinner by the beach and then go to bed. What

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