Chapter 25
Nora's POV
I woke to the steady hum of the engine, the scent of leather mixing with Julian's cologne—something I'd begun to associate with safety. My neck ached from the awkward sleeping position, and when I blinked my eyes open, I realized we'd already entered downtown Silverton.
"Almost there," Julian said quietly.
I sat up, running a hand through my disheveled hair. "What time is it?"
"Twelve o'clock."
My stomach growled audibly on cue, and I felt my face heat. I hadn't even finished a complete sandwich for breakfast.
Julian's mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close. "Hungry?"
"I'm fine," I said automatically, then immediately regretted it.
He didn't argue, just had Ethan pull the car smoothly into a spot in front of a fast-food restaurant—red vinyl booths visible through the windows.
"We should eat something," he said, killing the engine.
"You sure you don't mind this kind of place?" I asked, gesturing at the restaurant. "I mean, with your—" I stopped, unsure how to finish. With your status? You should be at fancy restaurants?
Julian turned to look at me, and something in his expression made my breath catch. "Nora," he said quietly, "any place with food is fine. I'm not that kind of person."
I felt ashamed of my assumption. But also strangely relieved, and I followed him inside.
---
The diner was exactly what I'd expected—black and white checkered floors, a jukebox playing oldies in the corner, and a waitress who looked like she'd been working there since the 1950s. We slid into a booth near the back, and I ordered a classic cheeseburger, onion rings, and coffee. Julian ordered the same.
When the food arrived, I took one bite of the burger and immediately regretted my choice. The meat was dry and overcooked, the onion rings were burnt around the edges, and the coffee tasted like it had been sitting on the burner for six hours.
"Is it not very good?" I asked.
Julian took a bite of his own burger, chewed thoughtfully, then set it down. He said simply, "When you're hungry, any food is good food."
I studied him across the table—this man who commanded entire departments with a word, who could shift into a massive silver wolf and tear through criminals like paper. Right now, he just looked... tired. Human.
"You were in the military, weren't you?" I remembered colleagues gossiping about it.
Julian's hand paused halfway to his coffee cup. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then he nodded slowly. "Border patrol. I was on the northern frontier for five years before transferring to federal service."
I waited, sensing there was more.
"It was six months before I left," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "Cross-border militants breached our sector. We were pinned down for three days—blizzard conditions, no resupply, no air support. Food ran out on day two." He picked up his coffee, staring into it. "We had a kid with us. Nineteen years old, first deployment."
Julian's jaw tightened. "Third night, they made their final push. He... when one of them broke through our line, he stepped in front of me. Took a round meant for me." His voice went flat, the way people sound when talking about something that still hurts. "I held him while we waited for medevac. But the storm was too thick. The helicopters couldn't land."
I felt my throat tighten. "Julian..."
"Before he died, he asked me if we could have burgers again when we got back to base," Julian said quietly. "That's when I understood. The things we take for granted—being warm, having clean water, eating a meal—those are luxuries for many people."
The silence that fell between us felt heavy. I looked down at my barely-touched burger, suddenly ashamed of every time I'd complained about cafeteria food or skipped breakfast because I was too busy.
"I won't complain about food again," I said finally, meeting his eyes.
Something shifted in his expression—the tension around his mouth eased slightly, and a hint of warmth returned to those silver-gray eyes. "If you ever get something truly inedible, you can leave it to me. I'll handle it."
I couldn't help the surprised laugh that escaped. "Careful. I actually have a pretty big appetite."
"Then I'd better prepare myself," he said, and now there was a ghost of a smile on his lips—a real one, soft and almost boyish. It transformed his whole face, made him look younger, less untouchable.
"Next time you're in Blackwood," I heard myself say, "I'll take you somewhere good. There's this old place that makes the best beef stew—been there since the 1940s. Real comfort food."
Julian's eyes met mine, and I saw something flicker in their depths. "I'll remember that," he said, and the way he said it felt like a vow. "I'm looking forward to it."
---
After lunch, we walked back to the car in silence, the afternoon sun warm on my face. Once we were both inside, Julian turned to me.
"What's next?" he asked. "Your apartment? You should rest."
I shook my head before he'd even finished. "The DSW office. I have case files to update, and I need to file my field reports while everything's fresh."
Julian's expression flickered—concern, maybe frustration. "Nora, you haven't rested much these past few days."
"I'm fine," I said automatically, then caught myself. "I mean... I will be. But I need to finish this. It's important."
He stared at me for a long moment, his gaze intense enough to make me want to squirm. Then he slowly nodded. "All right. But promise me you won't stay too late. Finish your work and go home."
"I promise," I said, though it was probably a lie. When had I ever left the office early?
Julian started the engine, and we pulled into Silverton's orderly traffic.
Twenty minutes later, the car pulled up in front of the building.
I said my final goodbye to him and headed toward the building entrance.