Madeline's POV.
Something sweet smelling invaded my nostrils, waking me up from my nap.
The windows next to me were enough proof that the sun had almost set, 'But what was this smell?'
A rich, cocoa, sweet scent, maybe vanilla?
That's when I realized I was in the villa and immediately turned alert.
'How could I just fall asleep, scrolling through my gallery?'
I blinked a few times and turned my head towards the direction of the kitchen but nothing would have prepared me for what I saw.
I blinked again, a few more times, ensuring that I was not dreaming.
There he was, standing, Liam Fernandes.
Wearing a green apron with white square patterns, but he had just the apron on.
Just an apron.
For a moment I felt like I was having a naughty dream, so I pinched myself, 'Holy shit, this is real', I internally screamed.
He was busy doing something, 'Was he using the oven?'
His back muscles flexed as he kept moving his arms, his shoulders so broad that I suddenly wanted to give him a back hug, and my mouth went dry.
I tried to look away because staring at his 'oh so sexy back' seemed so pervy for some reason.
I frowned. I was not being pervy, was I? I was just admiring the view, right?
Then he turned his head, as if he knew I was watching him, it was all too fast that I couldn't turn away or duck my head. I clutched the blanket, twisting it around.
''You're awake,'' he said, his voice slightly hoarse, ''Sleep more if you are tired, I didn't mean to wake you up,''
I sat up straight, ''No, no, I am good.''
He gave me a nod before turning back, continuing what he was doing, his back muscles still flexing, 'Did he work out every day?'
" I am making brownies. I found a mix."
"Oh." I cleared my throat, hating how squeaky I sounded. "That's… nice."
Another pause. With just utensils clinking.
His voice dropped just a bit as he said, "You were staring."
"What?" I squeaked.
"You were staring at me, Madeline."
"I—I wasn't!" I said far too quickly, like a teenager caught red-handed. "I was just wondering what you were doing."
"Right," he said, without turning around. But I saw his shoulders rise and fall, the subtle tension in his back. "Just wondering."
Good Lord, he was smug.
He definitely knew what he was doing.
Or maybe not, his voice sounded very casual, almost like he was just stating facts and not teasing me.
''Don't flatter yourself,'' I accidentally said it out loud, and I immediately bit my tongue for letting that slip.
''I don't'' he replied as he took the brownies out.
And it smelled like heaven! The chocolate, vanilla kind of smell turning more intense.
He brought the brownies to the table nearby and pushed them near me, ''Have a bite, something sweet for you, because you are stuck with a jerk like me.''
I chuckled at that. Liam Fernandes knew how to keep his charm intact.
I picked up a piece of brownie, the edges still warm and gooey. The scent made my stomach grumble, but it was nothing compared to the way my heart thudded as Liam sat across from me, still just wearing that damn green apron.
His hair was a bit damp, he probably went out to the beach. The apron hung around his neck, the thin strings cutting across his shoulders and tying behind his back, leaving very little to the imagination.
I took a bite, mostly to distract myself.
Big mistake.
The brownie melted in my mouth, soft, rich and a little too perfect. I made a soft sound without meaning to, eyes fluttering shut for a second. When I opened them, Liam was watching me.
Intently.
He sat in the opposite couch, leaning back, his legs spread wide, his calm, unreadable eyes watching me.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said, still watching me. "Just watching if you like the brownies."
"They're good," I mumbled around another bite, doing everything I could not to drop my gaze back to his chest.
Or arms.
Those biceps, I suddenly wanted to bite his arms.
He reached over and grabbed a piece for himself, completely unfazed by his state of undress.
"I wasn't expecting them to turn out this well," he added, casually tearing off a chunk with his fingers and popping it into his mouth.
I stared.
I couldn't help but stare.
There was something so inherently unfair about a man looking like that, broad shoulders, strong arms with just an apron.
Forget about men in suits or grey pants, men in aprons looked hotter or maybe just this man.
"You're really going to just sit there half-naked?" I blurted before I could stop myself.
He looked at me, tilting his head. "You've seen me shirtless before? I have been shirtless for countless photoshoots."
"Not like this," I said, a little breathless. "Not… apron-only shirtless. It's different. Those are pictures."
He then nodded his head, "Different....mmm...in a good or a bad way?"
His voice had dropped again, low, velvety. Curious.
I tucked my knees under the blanket and looked away, the heat in my cheeks refusing to die down.
"Shut up," I muttered.
He chuckled and stood up to grab water from the counter.
I turned back just in time to catch the full view of his back again, the muscles shifting smoothly beneath his skin, the tie of the apron swaying slightly as he walked.
If this was some kind of punishment for something I did in a past life, it was cruel. And maybe a little well deserved.
He returned and placed a glass in front of me. His fingers touching mine, it kinda felt deliberate.
That small moment of contact sent tingles through my arms.
''You okay?'' he asked, noticing me almost shudder.
I nodded too quickly. ''Y-yeah. Brownies are great. Thanks.''
His lips twitched again, almost as if he was smiling. ''You always did love them.''
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
He froze for a moment, as if he had said something wrong. ''Nothing. Just… figured you'd like chocolate.''