Chapter 139

The relentless knocking finally stopped.

Evelyn remained in the study until midnight. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, making her feel lightheaded after not eating all day.

When the house fell silent, she crept out. The kitchen downstairs beckoned with promises of food.

Cooking had never been her strength. Her attempts usually ended in disaster.

After searching every cabinet, she found nothing prepared. With a sigh, she grabbed two eggs, planning to boil them.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

She spun around to find Liam approaching. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she instinctively stepped back.

"Why are you still awake?" Evelyn felt like a child caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

Liam moved with quiet precision, turning off the stove before she could react.

"I—" Her stomach growled loudly, cutting off her words. The water hadn't even begun to boil yet.

Without speaking, Liam removed the eggs from the pot. "You dislike yolks. Will two egg whites suffice?"

Evelyn blinked in surprise. He remembered such small details about her preferences.

"I could always make more," she offered softly.

Liam cracked the eggs with practiced ease. Evelyn watched, confused by his sudden culinary demonstration.

His expression remained unreadable, his movements efficient yet graceful. The air around him felt cool and detached.

Evelyn didn't dare interrupt. She simply observed as he transformed simple ingredients into something more.

He whisked the eggs with water, strained the mixture, and set it to steam. Then he retrieved steak and greens from the refrigerator.

Evelyn's eyes widened as more ingredients appeared. She never imagined a military man like Liam could cook so skillfully.

Her stomach protested loudly. She licked her lips without thinking, then stepped closer. "Are you hungry too? Is that why you're cooking?"

"Not hungry," Liam replied while searing the steak. Rosemary and garlic filled the air, making her mouth water.

Her gaze fixed on the sizzling meat. "Are you... making this for me?"

Silence. Then he held up two spice jars. "Black pepper or cayenne?"

"Cayenne!" The answer burst from her before she could stop it.

"Wait outside," he instructed, his tone firm yet not unkind.

Evelyn obeyed immediately, fleeing to the dining room.

She pressed cool hands to her burning cheeks. Why did he remain so composed while she turned into a flustered mess? That morning's intimate moment replayed in her mind, making her pulse race.

Liam emerged carrying three dishes: pepper-crusted steak, silky egg custard, and fresh greens.

He set them before her and took the opposite seat. The table's width provided comfortable distance between them.

An awkward silence settled.

Evelyn picked up her fork hesitantly. She glanced at Liam, who sat with one arm resting on the table, watching her with intense focus.