Chapter 161
Nora's POV
Before I even reached the gate, I heard the sound of paws thundering across grass. Lily burst out of her doggy door, a blur of black fur and boundless energy. She barreled toward me, tail wagging so hard her entire back end wiggled.
"Hey, girl!" I crouched down, letting her jump all over me. She licked my face enthusiastically, her excitement contagious. I laughed, wrapping my arms around her thick neck. "I missed you too."
A moment later, Pepper sauntered out of the house, far more dignified. The orange tabby wound around my legs, purring loudly as he rubbed his head against my shin.
I scooped him up, burying my face in his soft fur. "Hey, buddy."
Lily nudged my leg insistently, demanding more attention. I laughed again, setting Pepper down so I could pet them both.
"I thought Julian would've sent you guys to a kennel," I murmured, scratching Lily behind the ears. She leaned into my hand, eyes half-closed in bliss.
Inside, I kicked off my shoes and padded into the kitchen. The fridge was well-stocked, but nothing looked fresh. Julian had been gone for days. I ended up ordering takeout—pasta and a salad—and ate it curled up on the couch with Lily's head resting on my lap and Pepper sprawled across the armrest.
When I finished eating, my phone rang. The screen showed Julian's name with a video call icon.
I hesitated for a moment, then pressed accept.
Julian's face appeared on the screen. He was sitting at a desk in some hotel room.
"Home yet?" he asked, his voice low.
"Technically, yes." I adjusted the phone angle so he could see Lily beside me. "But I'm at your place."
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Lily and Pepper must be thrilled."
"They're surviving." I turned the camera toward Pepper, who was cleaning his paw. "Barely."
Julian laughed. "I hired someone to come by twice a day. Didn't want them stuck at a kennel."
"You're ridiculously thorough."
"Only when it matters." His gaze through the screen held something searching. "How was your day?"
I bit my lip. I could tell him about Kyle, but I didn't want him to worry, didn't want him anxious for me when he was so far away.
"Busy," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "Work stuff. Nothing major."
Julian stared at the screen for a moment, his eyes seeming to see through all my pretenses. "You sure?"
I nodded, maybe too forcefully. "Yeah. Just a little tired."
He was silent for a beat, then spoke slowly. "Then let me help."
"How?"
"I'll sing for you."
I froze. "What?"
Julian's expression was serious, but there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes. "You said you'd only let me sing when you were upset. So here's your chance."
I laughed, the sound startling Lily awake. She lifted her head, blinking at me in confusion. "Sorry, girl," I whispered, then turned back to Julian. "You don't have to—"
"Too late. Already decided." He adjusted his posture, leaning back in his chair. "Close your eyes."
"Julian—"
"Close them, Nora." His voice was gentle but firm.
I obeyed, setting the phone on the coffee table and leaning back against the couch cushions. Lily shifted, resting her head on my stomach again.
Then, through the phone's speaker, Julian started to sing.
His voice made me begin to relax, even though he wasn't a good singer.
---
The next morning, sunlight pierced through the curtains and fell across my face. I went through my usual routine—washing up, getting dressed—and rushed to the office. After a few hectic hours finishing my morning shift and submitting two pieces on natural disasters, all I wanted was to find somewhere quiet and just lie down.
Back at Silver Ridge Estate, the place felt different in daylight—less like Julian's domain, more like somewhere I was learning to belong. I washed off the morning's humidity, changed into the sleepwear he'd bought for me, and dragged a wicker lounge chair out to the backyard.
The garden was alive with spring. Purple lilacs hung heavy on their branches, their rich fragrance drowsy and intoxicating in the heat. Late-blooming daffodils swayed in the breeze, their pale petals catching the light.
I stretched out on the chair and, despite the warmth, pulled a wool throw over my legs out of habit before tugging the silk eye mask down over my eyes.
Lily trotted over, tail wagging, a tennis ball wedged in her jaws. She dropped it at my feet and stared at me expectantly.
"Not now, girl," I murmured, reaching down to scratch her ears. "I need to sleep. You and Pepper behave, okay?"
She huffed in protest, then turned and bounded back toward the house. A moment later I heard Pepper's indignant yowl—Lily had grabbed him by the scruff and was dragging him inside like a wayward kitten.
I couldn't help smiling as I sank deeper into the chair. Sunlight filtered through the oak leaves in restless patterns, warm against my skin. My breathing slowed. The world softened.
---
I wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep when Lily's low whine pulled me back.
It wasn't her warning bark—the sharp sound she made when strangers got too close to the fence. This was softer. Excited.
"Lily, stop..." I mumbled, half-dreaming. "Let me sleep..."
Then I felt it: a hand, warm and deliberate, settling over my forehead. Fingertips traced the arch of my brow, slow and careful.
That scent hit me next. Cedar and cold fir, sharper than the faint traces lingering on the pillows upstairs. Alive. Real.
My pulse stuttered.
His breath ghosted across my cheek. Lips brushed my forehead, feather-light. Then my temple. The bridge of my nose. The corner of my mouth.
I felt his fingers slide along my jaw, tilting my face up. His thumb grazed my lower lip.
"Sleeping this hard?" His voice was low, amused, rough around the edges. "Didn't even know I came home?"
My heart hammered in my chest. I tried to convince myself I was still dreaming—that my brain was playing tricks, conjuring him out of loneliness and longing.
But his touch was too warm. Too real.
I opened my eyes.
The eye mask slipped off. Sunlight poured in, blinding for a moment. Then my vision cleared.
Julian was crouched beside the lounge chair, one hand braced on the armrest, the other still cupping my face. His silver-gray eyes caught the light, warm and bright and entirely too satisfied.
"Julian?" My voice came out hoarse.
He smiled. Slow. Real. "Not a dream."
I sat up too fast, head spinning. He pressed a hand to my shoulder, steadying me. "Easy, baby. Stay put."
"You're—" I blinked at him, trying to make sense of it. "You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow."
"I missed you." He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. "So I came back early."
My chest tightened. I reached out, fingers trembling, and touched his face. His skin was warm under my palm, the faint stubble on his jaw rough against my fingertips. Solid. Here.
"Did you miss me?" he asked quietly.
I didn't trust my voice. So I answered a different way.
I pulled him down and kissed him.
It wasn't tentative. No hesitation, no second-guessing. I kissed him the way I'd been wanting to for days—hungry and certain, like I was trying to prove he was real.