Before long, the aroma of cooking food drifted out from the kitchen.
Lunch came out carrying a dish.
“Dinner’s ready, Oryon — come help carry the dishes.”
Oryon got up and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Lunch’s neck.
“Coming, wifey!”
With that, he headed into the kitchen.
Beside them, Bulma — carrying a dish of her own — watched the scene, her ears flushing red instantly.
“Is this… what normal couples are like on a daily basis?” Bulma murmured.
Lunch thought it over.
“I’ve never had a normal relationship myself, so how would I know? Maybe this is just what it’s like being with him!”
Lunch set down the dish in her hands and touched the spot on her neck he’d kissed, a blush rising to her cheeks.
“Still, I really enjoy being with him like this. Don’t laugh at me, but… I’ve never lived like this in my whole life…”
Bulma swallowed hard, twice, and whispered, “Neither have I…”
The two women glanced at each other, their eyes curving into crescents, and burst into silvery peals of giggling.
In the kitchen, Oryon’s eyes landed at once on the counter, where at least a dozen dishes were laid out, every one of them heaped onto a large platter.
She’d clearly worried he wouldn’t get enough to eat — every portion was generous enough to fill him up.
Warmth spread through him.
This was Lunch’s love for him, plain and simple.
Soon the table was covered with food.
Lunch untied her apron and sat down in the chair beside Oryon, her hips tilting up slightly as she settled in.
Oryon had already taken a big bite of the salt-and-pepper shrimp.
“Delicious — so good! Lunch, you’re an amazing cook!”
Lunch pressed her lips together in a smile.
“Try this one too — I think I did an even better job on it!”
She picked up a piece of pan-fried fish fillet with her fingers and brought it to his mouth.
“Say ah — open up!”
Oryon swallowed the fillet in one bite, taking her fingers into his mouth along with it.
Then he gave her fingers a gentle suck before chewing the fish with big, satisfied bites.
“Mm, so good — this one’s good too!”
She scooped up a spoonful of soup, blew on it, and brought it to his lips.
“Eat slower, don’t choke.”
Oryon drank down the soup in one go, then picked up a shrimp he’d already peeled himself and fed it into Lunch’s mouth.
“Don’t just focus on feeding me — eat too…”
Lunch parted her lips obediently and ate the shrimp he offered.
“Mm, tasty!”
The two of them ate while gazing at each other.
Lunch’s blue eyes looked as though they were brimming with honey, holding Oryon’s gaze in a sticky-sweet grip he couldn’t look away from.
His own gaze didn’t stop at her face, either — it drifted to her full hips one moment, then to her long legs the next.
In short, his eyes never sat still.
Oryon didn’t eat in a hurry.
Sure, he was a Saiyan with a huge appetite, but he had nothing pressing to do all day — why rush?
Spending quality time with Lunch worked better than training anyway, so there was even less reason to hurry.
A meal only meant something if it came with that kind of connection.
[Ding. Intimate interaction with Lunch detected — one day’s worth of cultivation gained.]
Instantly, Oryon felt the muscles all over his body swell, as if he’d just spent a full day training hard.
The gain was barely perceptible, but that was how martial training worked — little by little, day after day, until a towering tree finally grew.
He just didn’t know how he could ever match the effect of training in a gravity chamber.
That was the only way to grow fast enough.
Oryon didn’t dwell on it, though.
He let go of his worries and threw himself wholeheartedly into enjoying his current life, greedily soaking up Lunch’s love.
The two of them ate on, wrapped up in each other, their gazes tangling in the air between them as if they could be spun into thread.
Oryon drank another small bowl of soup, then reached over and wiped a stray grain of rice from the corner of Lunch’s mouth with his thumb, popping it into his own mouth right under her gaze.
Lunch blinked in surprise, then pressed her lips together in a smile.
He was just too smooth.
The two of them were basking in their blissfully entangled little world, but across the table, Bulma sat as if on pins and needles.
I should be under the table, not at it, she thought.
That was all Bulma wanted to do right now. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
These two didn’t treat her like she was even in the room — how was she supposed to eat under these conditions?
Oryon finished off a bite of greens, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lunch’s forehead.
“You eat too, don’t just focus on feeding me.”
“But I like feeding you.” Lunch’s voice was soft as cotton candy.
Bulma’s chopsticks trembled, and a pea rolled out of her bowl, bounced twice on the table, and dropped to the floor.
She scrambled to bend down and grab it, banging her head on the corner of the table hard enough to bring her to the verge of tears — but she didn’t dare make a sound.
By the time she straightened back up, the flush on her face had spread all the way down to her collarbones.
Lunch glanced at Bulma’s flustered state, then at Oryon, a flicker of mischief crossing her eyes.
She stood up, took the apron hanging on the back of her chair and tied it back on, then picked up a shopping bag.
“We’re running low on groceries. I’ll go pick some up and make you two something good for dinner.”
Bulma froze for a moment.
“Huh? You’re going to buy dinner groceries already?”
Lunch smiled and pointed at the clock in the middle of the living room.
“It’s already noon — this meal counts as lunch…”
With that, Lunch stripped off her house clothes right there in the living room, in full view of both Oryon and Bulma.
Her slender curves, full breasts, and perky rear filled their vision, pale and bare.
Startled, Bulma asked in a hushed voice, “Lunch, wh — why are you changing clothes right here in the living room?”
Lunch glanced at Oryon, who was calmly continuing his meal, and said to Bulma, “What’s the big deal? You’re a woman, and Oryon’s hardly a stranger. These past couple days, whenever we’re home, he looks at me all the time — and puts his hands on me too…”
As she spoke, Lunch adjusted her bra, shifting it into a better position.
Still not satisfied, she looked down to check.
The pair of round, plump mounds — soft as a pair of white rabbits — were full and perfectly rounded, the valley between them deep.
But the small bra seemed to have long since given up under the strain.
Lunch blinked her big eyes, puzzled.
“That’s odd — my chest seems to have gotten even bigger these past couple days. It’s a brand-new bra, and it’s already uncomfortable after just two days. Don’t tell me I’m still growing…”
Bulma’s mouth twitched.
She glanced over at Oryon, still eating beside them, and a mortifying thought surfaced in her mind.
Don’t tell me — did he grope Lunch’s chest bigger over the past couple days?
She glanced down at her own chest, a flicker of anxiety stirring inside her.
“In the blink of an eye I’m already 29… if I don’t hurry up, they’ll start sagging…”