Chapter 94
Julian's POV
Evelyn took the container and settled onto one of the kitchen stools, and I watched her take a bite, then another, the exhaustion gradually easing from her shoulders.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For getting me out of there. For this." She gestured at the food, the full refrigerator. "For staying."
"You don't have to thank me for staying, Evelyn. I told you I'm not going anywhere."
"I know. But I'm not used to—" She stopped, searching for words. "People don't usually stick around. Not when they see what I really am."
"Then they're idiots." I moved closer, bracketing her against the counter. "Because what you really are is incredible. Terrifying, yes. Complicated, absolutely. But incredible."
She looked up at me, and for just a moment, all her walls came down. I saw the vulnerability beneath the armor, the fear that she'd never quite be able to hide completely.
"I'm trying," she said. "To let you in. To trust this. But every instinct I have is screaming at me to run, to push you away before you can hurt me or I can hurt you."
"I know." I touched her face, gentle despite the intensity building between us. "And I'm not asking you to ignore those instincts. Just... give me a chance to prove them wrong."
She held my gaze for a long moment, then set her food aside and pulled me down into a kiss that tasted like surrender and promise and the terrifying possibility of something real.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. She rested her forehead against mine, her fingers tangled in my shirt.
"Did Isabella say anything?" I asked. "About us?"
"No. I don't think she suspects anything." Evelyn pulled back slightly. "She was too focused on trying to bond with me. Talking about Adrian, asking advice about being a good wife, planning our next shopping trip."
"So we're safe. For now."
"For now," she agreed. "But Julian—how long can we keep this up? The hiding, the sneaking around, the constant fear that someone's going to notice something?"
"As long as we need to." I pulled her close again. "I meant what I said this morning. I'm not happy about hiding, but I understand why you need it. And I'll do it. For you."
"But you said—"
"I said I'm not hiding in your bedroom again. And I'm not. If someone shows up, I'm not running." I held her gaze. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to broadcast our relationship to everyone who'll listen. We can be discreet without me having to pretend you're nothing to me."
She searched my face, and I could see her trying to figure out if I really meant it or if I was just saying what she wanted to hear.
"I don't deserve you," she finally said.
"Probably not. But you're stuck with me anyway."
That got a real laugh out of her, small but genuine. She went back to her pasta, and I watched her eat while my mind turned over the conversation with Margaret, the manufactured emergency, the way I'd manipulated the situation to get what I wanted.
It should have bothered me more than it did. The lying, the manipulation, the casual way I'd used family connections to solve a personal problem.
But all I could feel was satisfaction that Evelyn was here, safe, eating actual food instead of still trapped in some department store listening to Isabella prattle on about hemlines and accessories.
"What are you thinking about?" Evelyn asked, watching me with those sharp blue eyes.
"How easy it was to lie to my aunt. How little I cared about manipulating the situation." I leaned against the counter. "I used to think I had more scruples than this."
"And now?"
"Now I'm realizing that when it comes to you, I don't have any scruples at all." I met her gaze. "I'll lie, manipulate, use whatever resources I have—whatever it takes to keep you safe and with me. And I'm not even sorry about it."
She set her fork down, her expression unreadable. "That should probably scare me."
"Does it?"
"No." She stood up and moved closer. "It should. But it doesn't. Because I'd do the same thing for you."
"I know you would." I pulled her into my arms. "We're a mess, aren't we?"
"Completely." She tilted her head up to look at me. "But maybe we're a mess that works."
"Compatible dysfunction," I said, echoing our earlier conversation.
"Exactly."
We stood like that for a long moment, just holding each other, and I thought about how quickly everything had shifted between us. How what had started as a dangerous game of cat and mouse had turned into something real, something that terrified us both but that neither of us seemed willing to walk away from.
My phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the moment. I glanced at it and saw a message from Margaret.
Isabella's home safe. She seems tired but happy. Thank you for looking out for her, Julian. You're a good nephew.
I showed the message to Evelyn, watching guilt flash across her face.
"She thinks you were being thoughtful," Evelyn said. "Looking out for Isabella's wellbeing."
"I was being selfish. I wanted you here, not trapped in a shopping marathon with my cousin."
"Still. Margaret doesn't know that. To her, you're just a caring family member."
"Which makes the manipulation worse, not better." I set the phone aside. "But I'd do it again. In a heartbeat."
She looked at me for a long moment, and I couldn't quite read her expression. Then she kissed me—soft and sweet and full of something that felt dangerously close to trust.
"We should probably talk about the engagement party," she said when we broke apart. "Since apparently we're going."
"We are going. Together."
"And how exactly are we going to explain that? Us showing up together?"
"We don't have to explain anything. You're family—Adrian's stepmother. I'm family—Isabella's cousin. It makes perfect sense that we'd arrive together if we happened to be coming from the same place."
"And if people ask questions?"
"Then we tell them the truth—that we've been working together on the investigation into the assassination attempt. That we've become friends." I touched her face. "We don't have to announce that we're sleeping together, Evelyn. We just have to stop acting like we're strangers."
She nodded slowly, turning it over in her mind. "Okay. We can do that. Friends and colleagues who happen to show up together."
"Exactly."
"But Julian—" She pulled back slightly. "If Isabella or Adrian or anyone else starts asking more pointed questions—"
"Then we'll deal with it. Together." I held her gaze. "That's the deal, remember? You let me in, and I stay. No matter what."
She searched my face one more time, then nodded. "Okay. Together."
And for the first time since this whole thing started, I actually believed we might make it.