Chapter 32 WHO IS THAT WOMAN TO XAVIER CROSS?

Chapter 32 WHO IS THAT WOMAN TO XAVIER CROSS?
VERONICA POV

By evening, everything was done. When the last truck rumbled away down the driveway, the house finally fell quiet. I retreated to my room, spread the renovation plans across my bed, and lost myself in the details.

Downstairs, Natasha had the twins settled at the kitchen table, serving their dinner while spinning one of her ridiculous stories that had them giggling between bites. After brushing their teeth and tucking them in, she came upstairs and paused in my doorway.

“Hungry?” she asked softly.

“Go ahead without me,” I murmured, eyes still glued to the blueprints. “I need to finish going through these tonight.”

She gave a small, understanding nod and slipped away.

I lost myself in the details of the project as hours slipped by. When I finally looked up, the clock read 00:24 a.m. I yawned, stretched my stiff shoulders, and crossed the room to close the window. My stomach growled, reminding me I’d skipped dinner.

I padded downstairs to the kitchen, dropped my phone on the marble counter, and reached for the top shelf. I grabbed two packs of ramen, then filled the kettle halfway and set it on the burner. The lighter clicked, the blue flame caught, and I placed the kettle over the heat.

My phone buzzed sharply against the counter.

Xavier: I’m outside.

Shocked, I hurried to the door and cracked it open. He stood on the porch in faded jeans and a wrinkled black shirt, looking rumpled and unfairly handsome under the porch light.

I opened the door wider and he stepped inside with a smile. He closed the door and leaned against it taking in a deep breath. The space between us tightened without either of us stepping closer.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered. “It’s past midnight.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth, lingering for a long, heated second before lifting to my eyes. “Couldn’t sleep. I missed you.”

I crossed my arms, trying to ignore the stupid flutter in my stomach. “So you just chose to show up unannounced at one in the morning?”

He pushed off the door and stepped closer, voice low and rough. “Is that a problem, amor?”

Before I could answer, his hand came up, cupping the side of my face with surprising gentleness. His thumb brushed slowly over my cheekbone as those emerald eyes searched mine in the dim kitchen light. My breath caught.

“Xavier…” I whispered, barely audible.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me.

It wasn’t soft or careful like I expected. The moment his lips touched mine, heat flared. His mouth was warm, insistent, moving against mine with a slow, deliberate hunger that made my knees weak. One hand slid to the back of my neck, tilting my head as he deepened the kiss, tongue teasing the seam of my lips until I opened for him. 

Oh FUCK, I’m giving in. The thought flashed through my mind even as my body betrayed me. I’m giving out completely and I can’t stop.

My fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer as I kissed him back just as fiercely. A low sound rumbled in his chest when I nipped at his bottom lip.

The kiss turned filthy-sweet in seconds: slow drags of tongue, gentle bites, the kind of kiss that made the world tilt and heat pool low in my belly. His other hand gripped my waist.

When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard. Our foreheads rested together for a moment, lips still brushing. My heart hammered against my ribs.

I blinked, trying to steady myself, then forced my expression into something closer to annoyance. I stepped back, crossing my arms tightly over my chest to hide how my hands were trembling.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I muttered, avoiding his eyes. “Can you please not… do that?”

His lips curved into that smug, devastating smile. He tilted his head, clearly amused. “Not do what? Kiss you the way I’ve been dying to all day? Or notice how you kissed me back like you’ve been thinking about it too?”

My cheeks burned. “I did not—”

“You did,” he interrupted. “And it was fucking perfect. Don’t pretend you hated it, kitten. Your body doesn’t lie as well as your mouth does.”

I groaned and turned away, desperate to hide my embarrassment. “You’re impossible. Seriously.” I gestured toward the kitchen. “Come on, I was just about to make ramen. You hungry?”

He followed close behind as I moved back to the counter. The kettle was already whistling. I pulled out the second pack of ramen, set two bowls down, and poured the boiling water over the noodles, stirring in the seasoning. The familiar savory smell filled the quiet kitchen.

I slid a bowl and fork across to him, then took the stool opposite. “It’s nothing fancy. Don’t expect Michelin-star food at this hour.”

He twirled some noodles around his fork, took a bite, and let out a low, appreciative hum. “It’s perfect.”

He ate everything I gave him.

When we finished, he wiped his mouth and leaned back. “I want coffee.”

“No,” I said immediately.

“Why not?” He was already standing.

“Because I already know what happens after coffee,” I shot back, cheeks heating again.

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You do? Tell me about it, kitten.”

“Time’s up. Out.”

He chuckled, deep and warm, and gathered our bowls, carrying them to the sink and washing them without being asked. 

Before he left, he pulled me close and pressed slow, lingering kisses to my forehead, then my cheek, and finally my neck. The last one lingered far too long—his lips warm and open against my skin, teeth grazing lightly. A shiver ran straight down my spine and heat bloomed low in my belly.

“Go to bed, kitten. Big day tomorrow.”

I nodded, biting my lip hard.

He held my gaze for one charged second longer. “Want me to help you take care of that horniness?”

My brows shot up. “What the fuck—how do you even know?”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My eyes widened in horror and I slapped my hand over my mouth, mortified. Oh my God, I wasn’t supposed to say that. Heat flooded my entire face. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

His grin turned wicked, pure teasing satisfaction lighting up his eyes. “Careful, kitten. That sounded a lot like an admission.” He leaned in just a fraction, voice dropping low, “So… you are horny. Interesting.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled against my palm, still covering my mouth.

He laughed softly, clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort. “Was just trying to help, mi amor.”

I rolled my eyes and opened the door wide. “Leave. Now.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender and stepped out. I slammed the door behind him, then leaned back against it, sliding slowly down until I was sitting on the floor.

If I gave myself to this man and he eventually broke my heart… I wouldn’t survive it. 

I dragged myself back to my room but couldn’t sleep right away. I lay staring at the 3D ceiling, a stupid little smile tugging at my lips as I replayed every second of those kisses.

The next morning

I was already dressed and perched on the kitchen stool, sipping my coffee.

Absent-mindedly, I unfolded the newspaper that had been dropped at the doorstep, flipping through the pages out of routine more than interest.

Then everything inside me stilled.

My breath hitched.

There, in bold print, was a clear photo: Xavier leaning in, kissing the cheek of a woman inside a car.

WHO IS THAT WOMAN TO XAVIER CROSS? the headline screamed.

The cup trembled in my hand, coffee rippling close to the edge.