Renee walked in with a curious expression and asked, “What can I help you with?”

Mr. Q was wearing disposable plastic gloves in both hands. He was marinating the steaks with a secret sauce.

“Help me wear the apron, please. My hands are occupied.”

He gestured to an apron hanging on the cabinet with his chin, giving out the command naturally.

“Help you… put on the apron?”

Renee felt a moment of awkwardness. She hesitated and did not move.

This kind of action was way too intimate. Wasn’t this usually something that only couples would do?

Mr. Q turned around and looked at her flatly. “Is something wrong? Are you… shy?”

“Of course not!”

forced herself to grab the apron and moved behind him. She had to tiptoe to put the apron over his head. She pretended to be nonchalant and said, “I’m a divorced woman. I’ve experienced everything before. Why would

the waistband neatly. She patted

although Mr. Q’s face was ruined, his body was top-notch. He had wide shoulders, a narrow waist, and firm muscles. His

Her vision was

after her divorce were comparable to Stefan, even Isaac, the escort

the timer to wait

and casually grabbed a kiwi to

into the fruit yogurt while stirring it with a spoon. He

this and see if you

“Umm…”

intimate with a

smile. “I thought you’re a divorced woman who

a sense of boundaries – a sense of boundaries

eyebrows and put

not help praising, “Oh my god, this is so good. Who

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