Chapter 113
Nora's POV
Later that evening, a private chef delivered an abundant seafood feast.
King crab, lobster, scallops, roasted fish—covering the entire dining table.
Julian sat across from me, head lowered in concentration as he extracted crabmeat. His long fingers gripped the silver crackers with skilled elegance, and before long he'd extracted a small plate of perfectly clean crabmeat, which he pushed toward me.
I propped my chin on one hand, my gaze settling on his profile. The light outlined his sculpted features, his lashes casting faint shadows beneath his eyelids. When he was focused, he lost that usual sharp edge, gaining instead a gentle domesticity.
"You're really good-looking," I said, the words escaping before I could stop them.
He looked up, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Why do I feel like you're buttering me up? Did you do something I should know about?"
"Maybe I'm just appreciating aesthetics."
He poured me a glass of fresh mango juice, then placed another peeled lobster tail on my plate. "Eat."
I picked up my fork, feeling surprisingly content in the comfortable silence. When was the last time someone had taken care of me like this? Not just the food, but that quiet attention woven into every small gesture.
Looking at the peeled shrimp and crabmeat before me, I suddenly felt a wave of emotion. "It's been forever since someone peeled shrimp and picked out crabmeat for me."
"Hmm?"
"My dad used to do it when I was little. Aunt Marianne sometimes too. But Lucas would always steal them right off my plate." I smiled at the memory. "He'd say, 'You don't really like them, sis,' and just snatch them away. Every single time."
"Smart kid."
"Annoying kid." I laughed. "So I developed a defense mechanism. I'd eat the crabmeat first, then lick my fingers until they were really wet. Then I'd pick up the peeled shrimp. Lucas would see my spit-covered hands and suddenly lose his appetite."
Julian chuckled low in his throat.
After finishing my story, I deliberately picked up a piece of cleaned crabmeat and waved it in front of him, my fingertips damp with moisture, gleaming softly.
"See, like this—"
Before I could finish, Julian leaned forward and bit the crabmeat right out of my hand.
His lips brushed against my fingertips, the warm sensation making my entire body freeze.
"Doesn't work on me," he said, his eyes full of amusement.
I jerked my hand back, staring at the crabmeat on my plate like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Anywhere but at him.
After a moment, I tried to make my voice sound normal, though the irritation still leaked through. "You're just as bad as Lucas."
Amusement flickered in Julian's eyes, but he didn't push further. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin, his tone casual. "Speaking of which—I really didn't expect him to be your cousin that day."
I looked up, confused. "You knew Lucas before?"
"The night I drove you home, my tire blew out on the way back. Your cousin helped me change the spare."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Guess you two really are a perfect match then. Equally terrible."
He smiled faintly but didn't argue.
We finished the rest of the meal in comfortable silence, the kind of easy atmosphere I hadn't felt in ages. When the last plate was cleared away, I took a deep breath and looked across at him.
"Julian... thank you. For arranging all of this." I glanced toward the ocean outside. "My mother's funeral, the medical bills, setting up the interview." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "I know you've done so much for me. But all these favors—" My voice dropped. "I really don't know how to repay them."
His expression changed instantly. That ease vanished completely, replaced by something colder, sharper. He set down his napkin deliberately, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Nora, if you think of what I've done as debt, then you're seriously underestimating me."
He stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. His back was to me, shoulders tense beneath his shirt. Outside, the ocean stretched endlessly into the darkness.
I froze, guilt twisting like a knife in my chest. That wasn't what I meant. But somehow, I'd hurt him anyway.
"I helped you because I wanted to," he said quietly, still facing the window. The distant sound of waves drifted in. "You can accept it without any burden. You don't owe me anything."
A pause. Then his voice dropped even lower: "Don't insult me by treating this like some kind of transaction."
I quickly walked to his side. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant." My voice came out smaller than I'd intended. "I'm just... not used to people taking care of me like this."
He finally turned to look at me, his expression complicated—frustrated, yes, but with something softer underneath.
"I'm not angry at you, Nora." His jaw tightened. "I'm angry at myself."
I froze.
"I don't want to pressure you," he continued, his voice low. "But I can't stop myself from wanting to be close to you. It makes me feel like... like I'm using my position to force you into accepting."
The air around us shifted.
My heart pounded hard.
I slowly reached out, hooking my pinky around his. The gesture felt pitifully small, but it was all I could manage in that moment.
"Julian..." I swallowed. "Let's try this. Officially. You and me."
He went completely still.
For a second, I thought I'd said the wrong thing. Then his eyes widened, disbelief and something dangerously close to hope flashing across his face.
"You mean..." His voice came out rough. "I'm promoted? Off probation?"
I laughed despite everything. The sound broke the tension just enough for me to breathe again. I lifted my chin, trying to look stern.
"Yes. Trial period's over." I paused, letting a hint of mischief slip into my tone. "But Mr. Sterling, if you screw up, you're getting fired. No severance package."
The corner of his mouth twitched. Then without warning, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. My ear pressed against his chest, where I could hear his steady, strong heartbeat.
"I'll never give you a reason to fire me," he murmured into my hair. "Never."
I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into his warmth. His steady breathing. The solid weight of his arms around me.
This time, I'm going to try again. This time, I'm choosing to let go of the fear.